LIFE    AND    LETTERS 


OF 


WILDER    DWIGHT, 

LIEUT.-COL.  SECOND  MASS.  INF.  VOLS. 


"Do  not  spend  your  days  in  weakly  fearing  or  regretting  this  or  that  life, —  lives 
whose  whole  sweetness  and  value  depend  upon  their  opportunities,  not  on  their 
length."  — LETTERS,  p.  214. 


BOSTON: 
TICKNOR    AND    FIELDS. 

1868. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER     I. 

Page 
BIRTH.  —  ANCESTRY.  —  EARLY    LIFE.  —  EXETER    ACADEMY.  — 

SCHOOL  AT  WEST  POINT.  —  HARVARD  COLLEGE.  —  CAMBRIDGE 
LAW  SCHOOL.  —  FOREIGN  TRAVEL.  —  PROFESSIONAL  STUDIES. 

—  PRACTICE  OF  THE  LAW.  —  FAVORITE  RECREATION     .        .1 

CHAPTER     II. 

MR.  LINCOLN'S  INAUGURATION.  —  FALL  OF  SUMTER.  —  EFFORTS 
TO  RAISE  A  REGIMENT  FOR  THE  WAR.—  JOURNEY  TO  WASH 
INGTON. —  APPROVAL  OF  THE  PROPOSED  REGIMENT  BY  THE 
SECRETARY  OF  WAR.  —  LETTERS,  DECEMBER  26,  1860- APRIL 
27,  1861 ....  32 

CHAPTER     III. 

APPOINTED  MAJOR  OF  THE  SECOND  MASSACHUSETTS  INFANTRY 
VOLUNTEERS.  —  THE  REGIMENT  LEAVES  BOSTON.  —  LETTERS 
FROM  MARTINSBURG,  BUNKER  HILL,  AND  HARPER'S  FERRY.— 
JULY  9 -JULY  28,  1861 44 

CHAPTER     IV. 

LETTERS  FROM  MARYLAND  HEIGHTS.  —  JULY  30- AUGUST  15, 
1861 61 

CHAPTER     V. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  BELOW  SANDY  HOOK.  —  CAMP  STAMPEDE. 

—  MARYLAND    HEIGHTS.  —  BUCKEYESTO WN.  —  ROCKVILLE.  — 
WASHINGTON.  —  CAMP  NEAR  DARNKSTOWN. —  AUGUST    18- 
AUGUST  30,  1861 7(5 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER     VI. 

LETTERS  FROM  PLEASANT  HILL  CAMP,  NEAR  DARNESTOWN.  — 
AUGUST  31 -SEPTEMBER  29,1861  .  .  .  .  .90 

CHAPTER     VII. 

LETTERS  FROM  WASHINGTON  AND  PLEASANT  HILL  CAMP,  NEAR 
DARNESTOWN.  —  OCTOBER  2-OcTonKR  21,  1861  .  •  .  .109 

CHAPTER     VIII. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  CONRAD'S  FERRY.  —  CAMP  NEAR 
THE  LITTLE  SENECA.  —  BATTLE  OF  BALL'S  BLUFF.  —  OCTO 
BER  24,  25,  1861  .  .  .  ...  .  ..  .  .  120 

CHAPTER     IX. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA.  —  OCTOBER  28 -NOVEM 
BER  16,  1861  .  .  .  . 131 

CHAPTER     X. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA.  —  NOVEMBER  19 -DE 
CEMBER  2,  1861  *  *  *  t  .  .  .  .  .  148 

CHAPTER     XI. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK.  —  DECEMBER 
6,  1861 -DECEMBER  29,  1861  .  .  ...  .  .165 

CHAPTER     XII. 

LETTERS  FROM  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK. — 
CHARLESTOWN,  VIRGINIA.  —  CAMP  NEAR  BERRYVILLE.  — 
CAMP  NEAR  WINCHESTER.  — JANUARY  5 -MARCH  13,  1862.  184 

CHAPTER     XIII. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  WINCHESTER.  —  WINCHESTER.  — 
BATTLE  OF  WINCHESTER.  —  CAMP  BIVOUAC,  NEAR  STRAS- 
BURG. —  CAMP  NEAR  STRASBURG.  —  CAMP  NEAR  EDINBURG. 
—  MARCH  15- APRIL  13,  1862 211 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

CHAPTER     XIV. 

LETTERS  FROM  BIVOUAC  NEAR  NEW  MARKET,  VA.  —  CAMP 
BETWEEN  NEW  MARKET  AND  SPARTA.  —  CAMP  NEAR  HAR- 
RISONBURG. — IN  BIVOUAC,  OPPOSITE  NEW  MARKET,  VA. — 
APRIL  20 -MAY  9,  1862 234 

CHAPTER    XV. 

BATTLE  OF  WILLIAMSBURG.  —  VISIT  TO  WASHINGTON.  —  GEN 
ERAL  BANKS'S  RETREAT.  —  TAKEN  PRISONER. —  RETURN  TO 
REGIMENT.  —  MAY  23 -JUNE  5,  1862 246 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

RETURN  HOME.  —  PROMOTION.  —  FORTRESS  MONROE.  —  RE 
JOINS  REGIMENT.  —  LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  CULPEPER. 
—  BATTLE  OF  CEDAR  MOUNTAIN.  —  LETTERS  FROM  CAMPS 
NEAR  TENALLYTOWN  AND  ROCKVILLE.  —  JUNE  5 -SEPTEM 
BER  11,  1862 270 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM.  —  WOUNDED.  —  DEATH.  —  BURIAL.  — 
SEPTEMBER  17-19,  1862 289 


APPENDIX .309 


LIFE  AXD  LETTERS  OF  WILDER  DWIGIIT. 


CHAPTER    I. 

BIRTH. —  ANCESTRY.  — EARLY  LIFE.  —  EXETER  ACADEMY.  — SCHOOL 
AT  WEST  POINT.— HARVARD  COLLEGE.  —  CAMBRIDGE  LAW  SCHOOL. 
—  FOREIGN  TRAVEL.  —  PROFESSIONAL  STUDIES.  —  PRACTICE  OF 
THE  LAW.  —  FAVORITE  RECREATION. 

WILDER  D  WIGHT  was  born  in  Springfield,  Mas 
sachusetts,  on  the  23d  of  April,  1833.     Of  Eng 
lish  descent,  his  family,  on  both  sides,  were  among  the 
earliest  settlers  of  New  England. 

John  D wight,  of  Oxfordshire,  England,  who  settled 
in  Dedham,  Massachusetts,  in  1636,  is  described,  in 
the  quaint  records  of  the  town,  as  "publicly  useful, 
and  a  great  peacemaker."  He  brought  from  Eng 
land  a  valuable  estate,  and  dying,  in  1659,  left  the 
same  to  his  only  son,  Timothy,  who,  according  to  the 
record,  "  inherited  his  estate  and  virtues,  and  added 
to  both."  Timothy,  a  cornet  of  troop  in  his  younger 
days,  went  out  against  the  Indians  ten  times,  —  nine 
of  which  he  either  killed  or  took  them  prisoners. 
He  was  afterwards  a  captain  of  the  foot,  and  then  a 
justice  of  the  peace,  and,  at  his  death,  in  1717,  is  de 
scribed  as  "  a  gentleman  truly  serious  and  godly,  — 
one  of  an  excellent  spirit, — peaceable,  charitable,  and 
a  great  promoter  of  the  true  interests  of  the  church 

and  town." 

i 


2  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

Nathaniel,  eldest  son  of  Timothy,  named  his  eldest 
son  Timothy,  who  was  the  father  of  the  Rev.  Timothy 
Dwight,  President  of  Yale  College,  —  certainly  the 
most  distinguished  member  of  the  family. 

Henry,  fourth  son  of  the  first  Timothy,  had  ten 
children.  His  eldest  son,  Joseph,  was  a  brigadier- 
general  of  militia,  and  prominent  in  command  under 
Sir  William  Pepperell,  at  the  taking  of  Louisburg 
from  the  French,  June  6th,  1745,  and  subsequently 
raised  and  commanded  a  regiment  sent  for  the  re 
duction  of  Ticonderoga. 

Edmund  Dwight,  brother  of  Brigadier-General  Jo 
seph  Dwight,  was  the  fourth  son  of  Henry,  and  served, 
also,  at  the  taking  of  Louisburg,  as  an  ensign.  He 
afterwards  became  a  captain  in  His  Majesty's  service, 
and  died  in  Halifax  at  the  age  of  thirty-eight  years. 

His  eldest  son,  Jonathan,  settled  in  Springfield, 
Massachusetts,  and  had  four  sons,  the  second  of 
whom,  Jonathan  (grad.  H.  U.  1793),  was  the  father 
of  William  Dwight  (grad.  H.  U.  1825),  and  the  grand 
father  of  Wilder  Dwight,  the  subject  of  the  present 
memoir. 

The  mother  of  Wilder  Dwight  was  the  daughter 
of  the  Hon.  Daniel  Appleton  White  (grad.  H.  U. 
1797),  a  descendant  of  William  White,  of  Norfolk 
County,  England,  who  settled  in  Ipswich,  Massachu 
setts,  in  1635,  and  in  1640  removed  to  Haverhill, 
Massachusetts. 

He  was  one  of  the  grantees  of  the  Indian  deed  of 
Haverhill,  dated  November  15th,  1642,  which  instru 
ment  was,  it  is  said,  both  written  and  witnessed  by 
him. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGIIT.  6 

It  has  been  thought  worth  while  to  record  the 
purely  New  England  origin  of  Wilder  Dwight ;  for 
in  him  we  recognize  the  principles  and  habits  of 
thought  and  life  of  the  New-Englander. 

Yet  a  more  noble  ancestry  was  his.  In  his  jour 
nal  he  has  himself  recorded  it,  as  follows  :  — 

"  Illustrious  Ancestry.  He  alone  has  it  who  has  lived  a 
useful,  excellent,  and  honorable  life.  Then  lie  can  look 
back  upon  the  obedient  child,  the  generous  youth,  the  ma 
ture  man,  —  all  the  ancestors,  progenitors  of  his  present  self. 
And  they,  too,  his  only  ancestry.  He  began  with  nothing1, 
he  has  made  everything  ;  but  on  dying,  he  takes  his  nobility 
with  him,  and  can  never  leave  it,  except  as  a  pleasant  mem 
ory,  to  his  successors." 

He  was  the  second  in  a  family  of  seven  sons,  three 
of  whom,  besides  himself,  served  with  credit  in  the 
late  war. 

From  early  childhood  he  was  esteemed  a  boy  of 
rare  promise.  But  in  this  he  was  not  remarkable,  — 
promising  children  are  the  rule,  not  the  exception. 
His  distinction  as  a  child  was,  that  he  gave  promise 
of  exactly  what  he  afterwards  performed. 

Manly,  courageous,  self-possessed,  acute,  original, 
frank,  affectionate,  generous,  reliable,  he  was  in  boy 
hood,  not  less  than  in  manhood,  one  in  whom  to  place 
an  absolute  trust.  Yet,  in  less  vital  points,  he  was  no 
pattern  boy.  He  had  a  quick  and  irritable  temper, 
hard  for  himself  to  subdue,  and  hard  for  others  to 
contend  with ;  but  there  were  times  when  one  could 
hardly  regret  that  which  led  him  to  such  a  manly 
struggle  for  self-control.  Upon  this  contest  he  en 
tered  almost  in  his  infancy.  Side  by  side  with  his 


4  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGIIT. 

repeated  outbursts  of  angry  temper  are  remembered 
his  early  efforts  to  control  it. 

With  high  health  and  abounding  animal  spirits,  a 
somewhat  rude  and  boisterous  manner,  added  to  his 
constitutional  irritability,  made  him  often  trouble 
some  as  a  boy.  Yet  there  was  a  charm  about  him 
which  more  than  atoned  for  it.  This  charm  was  due 
not  only  to  his  true,  transparent  nature,  but  also  to 
that  in  his  eye  and  smile,  which,  from  his  earliest  in 
fancy  to  his  latest  hour,  spoke  eloquently  of  the  soul 
within,  and  was  magnetic  in  its  influence  upon  others. 
To  this  was  added,  under  circumstances  calculated  to 
call  it  forth,  a  gentle  consideration  for  others,  which  was 
in  striking  contrast  with  his  usually  brusque  and  care 
less  manner. 

His  drollery  was  irresistible.  Many  a  reproof  did 
he  ward  off  by  it  in  childhood,  many  a  dark  hour  did 
he  brighten  by  it  in  after  years. 

He  was  uncommonly  clear-headed  and  strong  in  in 
tellect,  yet  he  was  not  a  precocious  child  in  the  or 
dinary  acceptation  of  that  term.  His  cleverness  was 
of  the  kind  which  has  been  described  as  "  that  of 
those  children  who  grow  up  to  be  clever  men  ;  —  a 
cleverness  which,  as  a  rule,  furnishes  fewest  anec 
dotes,  makes  least  show,  leaves  boys  essentially  boys, 
not  at  all  like  men." 

His  character  developed  early.  He  had,  even  as 
a  little  child,  a  sincere  love  of  right  and  aversion  to 
wrong,  though  he  did  not  desire  to  hear  preaching 
on  the  subject. 

It  was  his  delight,  from  early  boyhood,  to  relieve 
the  wants  of  the  poor  and  suffering.  His  "  acts  of 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGIIT.  5 

kindness  and  charity  "  at  that  period  are  no  less  viv 
idly  remembered  than  are  those  of  his  riper  years. 

His  eagerness  for  out-of-door  life  and  sport  was 
never  restrained.  He  grew  up  under  the  free  air  of 
heaven,  and  amidst  the  most  inspiring  scenery  of 
earth.  To  both  these  influences  may  be  traced  much 
that  was  valuable  in  his  life  and  character. 

In  company  with  a  circle  of  boys  from  families  of 
the  immediate  neighborhood,  his  playground  was  re 
stricted  only  to  the  beautiful  hill  upon  which  they  all 
lived,  where  they  had  the  freedom  needed  for  enjoy 
ment,  while  they  were  seldom  beyond  the  eye  or  ear 
of  some  watchful  parent. 

Probably  no  set  of  boys  ever  grew  up  under  cir 
cumstances  more  favorable  to  good  physical  and 
moral  development  ;  and,  in  this  connection,  the 
thought  forces  itself  upon  us,  with  what  added  inter 
est  we  should  have  looked  out  from  our  windows 
upon  the  happy,  noisy  group,  had  we  then  realized 
for  what  some  of  them  were  in  training. 

More  than  twenty  years  later,  when  their  coun 
try's  life  was  in  danger,  a  large  portion  of  them  — 
true  patriots  and  soldiers  —  gave  themselves  body 
and  soul  to  her  service,  thus  u  doing,"  as  has  been 
justly  said,*  "  the  highest  duty  man  can  do,"  and 
alas!  too  early  "dying,"  some  of  them,t  "the  best 
death  man  can  die." 

*  See  the  remarks  of  Mr.  Ellis,  at  the  meeting  of  the  Suffolk  Bar,  upon  the 
occasion  of  the  death  of  Wilder  Dwight.  —  Appendix  III. 

t  Prominent  among  the  sons  of  Springfield  here  referred  to  is  Colonel  Everett 
Peabody,  of  the  25th  Missouri  Infantry.  On  the  morning  of  the  6th  of  April, 
1862,  while  commanding  a  brigade,  he  fell  in  the  memorable  battle  of  Shiloh, 
but  not  until  he  had,  by  personal  vigilance  and  valor,  done  service  of  "  priceless 
value  "  to  the  Union  cause.  "  A  more  gallant  officer,  or  truer  gentleman,  has 
not  laid  down  his  life  for  his  country." 


6  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

Springfield,  at  the  time  to  which  our  record  carries 
us  back,  was  not  the  thickly  populated  city  it  now  is. 
The  charming  old  town  had  all  the  advantage  of  a 
purely  country  life,  with  something  remaining  of 
primitive  simplicity,  to  suggest  a  remembrance  of 
early  Puritan  days. 

With  the  descending  sun  of  Saturday  evening,  the 
Sabbath  commenced.  Then  the  usual  week-day  oc 
cupations  were  laid  aside,  and,  for  the  children,  the 
Scripture  print  and  the  Old  Testament  story  were 
brought  forth,  as  the  appropriate  recreation  for  the 
evening. 

Only  positive  illness  or  tempestuous  weather,  on 
Sunday,  prevented  parents  and  children  from  going 
in  company  to  the  house  of  God  for  public  worship. 

At  home,  after  each  of  the  circle  had  selected  and 
learned  a  text  of  Scripture,  the  fascinating  pages  of 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  read  aloud  to  the  children,  made 
the  Sunday  hours  among  the  pleasantest  of  the  week. 

Driving,  on  the  sacred  day,  excepting  to  and  from 
the  "  meeting-house,"  as  it  was  called,  was  a  thing 
unknown,  and  those  who  ventured  to  depart  so  far 
from  the  prevailing  custom  as  to  take  a  sober,  quiet 
walk  with  their  little  ones,  before  sunset  on  Sunday 
afternoon,  were  looked  upon  by  their  elders,  if  not 
with  condemnation,  at  least  with  surprise  and  regret, 
that  they  should  be  willing  to  take  the  lead  in  setting 
so  questionable  an  example. 

The  artificial  excitements  which  now  wait  upon 
the  young  in  the  city  and  its  suburbs  formed  no  part 
of  their  life  in  Springfield  at  that  time.  The  Lyceum 
lecture,  the  temperance  lecture,  the  anti-slavery  lee- 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  7 

ture,  the  town-meeting,  the  political  caucus,  these 
were  the  entertainments  of  our  future  patriots. 
Upon  no  one  of  them  did  the  circumstances  peculiar 
to  his  native  town  exert  a  more  marked  influence 
than  they  did  upon  the  ever-wakeful,  earnest  spirit 
of  Wilder  D wight. 

As  soon  as  he  could  speak  in  sentences,  he  began  to 
plead  for  the  Sunday  privileges,  which  he  perceived 
were  a  source  of  enjoyment  to  the  rest  of  the  house 
hold,  promising,  if  he  might  only  be  allowed  to  "  go 
to  meeting,"  that,  when  there,  he  would  "  sit  still,"  — 
a  thing  he  was  never  known  to  do  at  home.  Before 
he  was  quite  three  years  old  his  wish  was  granted, 
He  kept  his  promise,  and  was  always  orderly  and 
even  reverent  in  his  manner  at  church. 

The  services  were  short,  and  in  that  respect  well 
fitted  to  secure  a  child  from  weariness.  The  preach 
ing,*  to  which,  as  he  grew  older,  his  attention  was  di 
rected,  was  of  no  ordinary  character.  Doubtless  it 
was  greatly  due  to  this  advantage  of  his  boyhood  that 
the  subject  of  religion  was  of  paramount  interest  and 
importance  to  him  throughout  his  life.  Good  preach 
ing  on  Sunday  he  always  esteemed  a  privilege  to  be 
earnestly  sought  and  highly  prized. 

At  the  age  of  seven  years  and  six  months,  he  be 
gan  to  attend  political  caucuses  and  conventions  with 
his  father,  and  would  give  humorous  and  appreciative 
accounts  of  what  he  heard. 

*  That  of  the  Rev.  William  B.  0.  Pcabody,  D.  D.,  who  died  in  Springfield 
on  the  28th  of  May,  1847,  after  a  faithful  ministry  there  of  nearly  thirty  years, 
in  which  "  he  enjoyed  the  cordial  respect  and  good-will  of  all  his  Christian 
brethren  of  every  name,  and  the  devoted  love  of  those  to  whom  he  ministered  so 
long." 


8  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGIIT. 

At  the  same  age  he  began  to  study  industriously, 
and  from  that  time  he  was  a  faithful  student. 

That  was  a  sober  day  at  his  home  when  he  first 
went  from  under  its  roof  to  fit  for  college,  at  Phillips 
Exeter  Academy. 

He  was  then  thirteen  years  old,  and  although 
faults  of  temper,  already  mentioned,  frequently  called 
for  reproof,  he  had  ceased  to  be  regarded  merely  as  a 
child.  He  had  grown  to  be  a  confidential  friend  and 
adviser,  relied  upon  alike  by  his  parents  and  his 
brothers.  When  any  question  arose  for  decision  in 
the  domestic  circle,  it  was  to  his  good  sense  and  good 
judgment,  to  his  ready  sympathy  and  disinterested 
effort,  that  then,  —  as  well  as  later  in  life,  —  all  in 
stinctively  turned.  The  same  fidelity  to  duty  which 
had  made  his  presence  at  home  so  important  marked 
his  life  at  the  academy ;  where,  says  the  preceptor, 
"  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  course,  he  was 
a  pattern  pupil."  : 

The  following  extract  from  his  diary,  kept  at  this 
time,  shows  the  character  of  the  boy  :  — 

"December  31st,  1846. 

"  To-day  is  the  last  day  of  the  old  year,  and  in  commen 
cing  the  new  I  wish  to  lay  out  some  rules,  in  relation  to 
myself,  which  I  will  try  to  observe. 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  will  exercise  every  morning  after 
breakfast  until  school-time,  and  after  school  at  night,  until 
supper-time.  Secondly,  I  will  study  after  dinner  until 
school-time,  and  I  will  go  to  my  room  after  supper,  and 
busy  myself  in  studying  or  in  reading  a  useful  book  until 
bed-time.  Thirdly,  while  in  school  I  will  try  to  busy  my 
self  about  my  lessons,  and,  at  any  rate,  behave  in  an  orderly 
manner. 

*  Sec  Appendix  II. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF  WILDER   DWIGHT.  9 

"  And  I  will  observe  strictly  these  rules,  except  when  it  is 
right  for  me  not  to  do  so  ;  that  is,  at  such  times  as  I  may 
think  it  right,  though  I  may  err  in  that  opinion. 

"  And  may  I  also  try  to  correct  my  defects  of  temper. 
May  I  watch  every  word  that  comes  from  my  mouth ;  and 
may  I  let  my  yea  be  yea,  and  my  nay  be  nay  ;  and  may  I 
not  merely  write  these  things  down  and  think  no  more  of 
them,  but  may  I  always  keep  them  in  my  mind,  and  remem 
ber  them  most  of  all  when  I  am  angry,  as  that  is  the  time 
to  control  myself." 

While  he  was  at  the  academy,  and  indeed  through 
out  his  life,  whenever  he  was  absent  from  home,  it 
was  his  habit  to  send  to  his  family  a  letter  containing 
an  account  of  each  week  as  it  passed. 

He  now  writes  :  "  I  will  try  to  profit  by  your  ad 
vice  as  to  my  companions,  and  to  associate  only  with 
those  that  are  good."  To  this  resolution  he  faithfully 
adhered.  In  no  way  did  he  more  clearly  show  his 
purity  of  principle  and  purpose  than  in  the  choice  of 
his  friends. 

On  being  directed  to  select  his  own  subject  for 
composition,  he  decided  upon  one  which,  as  we  look 
back  upon  his  whole  course  through  life,  is  character 
istic  :  "  Confidence  is  conqueror  of  men  •  victorious 
both  over  them  and  in  them." 

Not  less  does  the  following  extract  from  one  of 
his  letters  of  this  period  foreshadow  the  future  man. 
The  principles  which  he  laid  down  so  forcibly  when 
a  schoolboy  of  fifteen  were  the  source  of  his  strength 
and  success  throughout  his  life  :  — 

"  No  man  ever  did  anything  in  this  world,  however 
trifling,  unless  he  felt  confident  of  his  ability  to  do  it,  and 


10  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGIIT. 

unless  he  entered  upon  it  with  a  cheerful  and  firm  deter 
mination  to  accomplish  his  end,  let  come  what  will  come." 

At  the  end  of  two  years  he  was  fitted  for  col 
lege  ;  but,  not  wishing  to  enter  so  early,  he  passed 
six  months  at  the  private  military  school  of  Mr. 
Z.  J.  D.  Kinsley,  at  West  Point,  in  order  to  secure 
the  advantage  of  the  military  drill,  while  at  the 
same  time  he  continued  his  classical  studies  and 
received  instruction  in  French  and  mathematics. 
In  May,  1849,  preparatory  to  entering  college,  he 
returned  to  Exeter  for  a  review  of  his  studies.  In 
the  following  July  he  writes  in  his  diary :  — 

"  On  Monday,  July  16th,  I  was  examined  for  entrance 
to  the  Freshman  class,  and  after  due  trepidation  and  effort, 
on  Tuesday >  at  about  4  P.  M.,  I  received  my  '  admittatur,' 
overjoyed  at  finding  it  an  unconditional  one." 

He  took  high  rank  as  a  scholar,  and  maintained 
it  throughout  his  college  course.  The  following  ex 
tract  from  his  diary  shows  by  what  means  he  ac 
complished  this  result:  — 

"  March,  1850.  —  ....  I  am  somewhat  of  i  a  dig,' 
I  suppose ;  and  though  the  character  is  rather  an  igno 
minious  one  in  college,  it  is  in  so  good  repute  elsewhere, 
and  among  wiser  persons  than  Freshmen,  or  even  Sopho 
mores,  that  I  shall  endeavor  always  to  deserve  the  title. 

"  Natural  geniuses  —  that  is,  lazy  good  scholars  —  are 
few  and  far  between  ;  I  shall,  therefore,  estimate  myself  as 
a  very  common  sort  of  a  person,  and,  as  I  desire  to  excel,  I 
shall  choose  the  way  which  seems  to  promise  success." 

Among  the  advantages  which  he  enjoyed  in  Cam 
bridge,  that  which  he  valued  most  highly  was  the 
instruction  received,  in  lectures  and  recitations,  on 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  11 

the  evidences  of  natural  and  revealed  religion,  from 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Walker.  Not  less  did  he  value  the 
pulpit  ministrations  of  this  distinguished  preacher, 
to  which,  at  stated  intervals,  it  was  his  privilege  to 
listen. 

In  the  journal  which  he  kept  during  his  college 
life,  and  while  he  was  in  the  Law  School,  a  large 
space  is  given  to  abstracts  of  Dr.  Walker's  sermons. 

In  one  of  the  earliest  of  these  occurs  the  follow 
ing  sentence ;  it  indicates  the  influence  which  these 
teachings  exerted  upon  his  character :  "  You  must 
lay  a  foundation  of  religious  feeling  and  principle, 
upon  which  to  build,  in  after  years,  as  long  as  you 
live." 

At  another  time  he  writes:  "Sunday,  January 
4:th,  1852.  Heard  Dr.  Walker  preach  from  the  text, 
Ecc.  8th,  llth :  '  Because  sentence  against  an  evil 
work  is  not  executed  speedily,  therefore  the  heart 
of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil.' " 
After  a  long  abstract  of  the  sermon,  he  says :  — 

"  This  is  the  sermon  on  which  I  may  well  found  the  first 
resolutions  and  actions  of  the  opening  year.  All  my  life  has 
been  a  series  of  violations  of  law,  though  I  have  ever  had  a 
theoretic  veneration  of  it.  Memory  runs  back  over  a  sad 
list,  and  time  passes  on  swift  wings.  To-morrow  is  to-day 
ere  it  is  spoken,  and  yesterday  was  lost  in  irresolution  and 
weakness.  Now  —  now  —  now  !  God  —  God  —  God !  Eter 
nity  —  eternity  —  eternity  !  Action  in  the  one,  mercy  and 
justice  in  the  second  !  Pain  or  pleasure,  joy  or  grief  in  the 
last !  Let  me  remember,  then,  that  '  though  a  sinner  do 
evil  an  hundred  times  and  his  days  be  prolonged,  yet  surely 
I  know  that  it  shall  be  well  with  them  that  fear  God,  which 
fear  before  him ' ;  that  no  man  knoweth  the  ways  of  God, 


12  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

—  they  are  past  finding  out.  Then  I  will  trust  in  the  good 
ness  which  is  inscrutable  but  inexhaustible.  I  will  apply 
my  heart  to  know,  to  search,  and  to  seek  out  wisdom,  and 
to  know  the  wickedness  of  folly.  And  may  these  thoughts 
glow  in  my  mind  ;  may  they  rouse  my  energies  till  I  seek 
to  embody  them  in  my  actions,  and  make  their  spirit  felt  in 
my  life,  and  may  not  these  aspirations  be  transient  and 
shadowy. " 

Although  he  was  eminently  practical  in  the  bent 
of  his  mind,  he  was  keenly  sensitive  to  the  beauti 
ful.  After  writing  at  length  upon  the  subject,  in 
his  journal,  he  says  :  "The  true  love  of  beauty,  —  let 
it  be  my  guide  in  all  my  pursuits.  The  love  of 
real  and  true  beauty  must  excite  a  love  for  purity, 
excellence,  and  worth." 

In  reply  to  one  of  his  brothers,  who  had  asked 
his  advice  as  to  a  course  of  reading,  he  says,  after 
giving  a  list  of  books  which  it  is  well  to  read,  if 
they  relish :  "  I  do  not  think,  so  long  as  one  avoids 
vicious  and  immoral  books,  that  it  is  so  much  a  ques 
tion  what  particular  books  he  had  better  read,  as  it 
is  an  imperative  duty  to  read  something.  Eead, — 
keep  reading,  —  and  you  will  not  regret  it." 

He  faithfully  followed  the  advice  which  he  gave  to 
his  brother.  His  love  of  books  amounted  to  a  pas 
sion.  While  he  was  in  College  and  in  the  Law 
School  he  collected  a  valuable  library  of  one  thou 
sand  volumes.  He  would  deny  himself  any  other 
indulgence  for  the  sake  of  possessing  a  fine  edition 
of  a  good  book,  or  a  rare  copy  of  an  antique ;  and  it 
was  only  when  the  temptation  came  in  that  form 
that  he  was  ever  led  to  incur  a  debt. 

After  a  visit  to  his  grandfather's  library,  early  in 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  13 

his  college  life,  he  writes :  "  I  feasted  myself  on  the 
covers  and  title-pages  of  many  old  books.  I  could 
do  nothing  more,  for  to  select  was  impossible  among 
so  many  beauties,  so  I  was  forced  briefly  to  admire 
all.  To  me  there  is  something  pleasant  and  beautiful 
in  the  mere  excellence  of  print  and  paper.  I  have 
a  sort  of  blind  veneration  for  these  two  powerful 
agents  considered  by  themselves ;  and  therefore  en 
joy  old  books,  fine  editions,  and  rich  bindings,  even 
when  I  can  go  no  farther  than  the  outside." 

In  his  journal  we  find  a  just  tribute  to  a  beloved 
and  revered  relative.  It  is  inserted  here  as  indi 
cating  the  struggle  for  self-mastery  which  formed 
so  large  a  part  of  his  life :  — 

"  I  believe  that  there  is  more  true  philosophy  in  cher 
ishing  the  agreeable  thoughts  and  fostering  an  unruffled 
spirit  than  in  any  self-discipline.  In  some  moods,  nothing 
would  disturb  me  ;  in  others,  every  occurrence  is  an  annoy 
ance.  But  how  can  this  calm  be  maintained  ?  It  is  the 
fruit  of  many  struggles, — the  clear  settling  of  a  much- 
troubled  and  turbid  spirit. 

"  Never  was  I  more  struck  by  the  beauty  of  such  a  char 
acter  than  in ,  who  has  been  staying  with  us.  Her  life 

has  been  one  of  a  great  deal  of  trial  and  severe  discipline. 
She  is  now  a  ministering  angel  of  content  and  peace.  Her 
presence  is  a  benediction.  Her  voice,  as  she  utters  her 
simple,  plain,  sincere  words  of  interest,  sympathy,  or  advice, 
is  a  messenger  of  joy.  Hardly  a  harsh  or  disagreeable  word 
or  act  lias  disturbed  our  home  while  she  has  hallowed  it." 

The  following  record,  in  his  diary,  contains  the 
secret  of  his  own  success  in  life  :  — 

"  The  more  I  read,  and  the  more  I  see,  the  more  inevita- 


14  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

bly  I  am  led  to  the  conclusion,  that  all  men  who  leave  any 
thing  behind  them,  and  whose  lives  are,  in  a  true  sense, 
respectable  and  successful,  are  the  incessant,  earnest  work 
ers  ; —  those  who  propose  an  object  in  living,  and  whose 
aims  all  tend  to  the  accomplishment  of  that  object." 

Not  less  characteristic  of  him,  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end  of  his  short  life,  is  the  following,  on 
another  page,  quoted  from  Dr.  Walker :  "  Success, 
ultimate  success,  in  whatever  a  man  undertakes,  de 
pends  almost  entirely  —  yes,  I  believe  I  may  say 
almost  entirely  —  on  forecast  and  perseverance ;  on 
that  peculiar  constitution  and  training  which  dispose 
one,  in  the  first  place,  to  mark  out  for  himself  the 
course  he  will  pursue,  and  then  fire  him  with  a 
resolution  to  follow  it  up  or  die." 

The  year '1853  —  the  last  of  his  college  life  — 
was  full  of  interesting  experience  to  him ;  yet  his 
journal,*  during  this  and  the  following  year,  after 
which  he  ceased  to  write  in  it,  contains  only  ab 
stracts  of  Dr.  Walker's  sermons,  with  occasional  ex 
tracts  from  books  he  was  reading.  These  all  indi 
cate  the  serious  thoughtfulness  of  his  inner  life,  while 
memory  holds  a  bright  record  of  his  healthy  oiu> 
ward  progress,  during  those  years,  in  all  that  was 
needed  to  prepare  him  for  a  happy  and  useful  fu 
ture. 

On  leaving  college,  he  entered  the  Law  School  at 
Cambridge,  with  ardent  enthusiasm  for  the  profes 
sion.  There,  too,  he  took  a  prominent  position,  re- 

*  It  should  be  said  that  neither  the  journal  here  mentioned,  nor  that  kept 
during  his  boyhood,  from  which  we  have  quoted,  was  ever  seen  by  any  eyes  but 
his  own,  until  after  his  death. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  15 

ceiving  the  first  prize  in  1855.  On  leaving  the  Law 
School,  he  passed  fourteen  months  in  foreign  travel. 
He  sometimes  spoke  with  regret  of  this  interruption 
to  his  studies,  because  it  placed  him  further  from  the 
attainment  of  the  main  purpose  of  his  life. 

He  first  visited  England,  proceeding  thence  through 
Germany  to  Switzerland.  There,  after  some  days  of 
"  hard  mountain  and  glacier  climbing,"  he  met  with 
a  sad  check  to  his  progress,  in  the  misfortune  of  a 
kick  from  a  mule.  Of  his  characteristic  way  of  meet 
ing  this  disaster,  the  friend  *  who  accompanied  him 
wrote  at  the  time :  "  D  wight,  who  bore  his  accident 
with  the  heroism  of  a  soldier  and  the  calmness  of  a 
philosopher,  frequently  exchanged  expressions  of  de 
light  and  wonder  at  the  wild  scenery  about  us,  for 
those  which  disappointment  and  pain  would  have 
prompted." 

A  more  serious  interruption  to  his  travels  awaited 
him.  While  still  suffering  from  lameness,  he  was,  to 
use  his  own  language,  "  thrown  violently  on  his  back, 
as  with  the  sudden  gripe  of  a  strong  arm,"  by  typhoid 
fever.  When  thus  seized,  he  was  at  a  little  hotel  at 
Giessbach,  which  looked  directly  out  upon  the  cascade, 
whose  constant  fall  was  very  irritating.  Soon,  how 
ever,  through  the  generous  hospitality  of  strangers,  he 
was  removed  to  a  quiet  and  cool  apartment  in  a  house 
farther  up  the  valley,  where  he  was,  as  he  said,  "  the 
guest  of  an  honorable  man  and  a  counsellor. "  f 

#  Charles  Wentworth  Upham,  Jr.,  son  of  Hon.  Charles  W.  Uphara,  and 
nephew  of  Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes.  "  Fairest  and  gentlest  of  his  race,"  he 
died  on  the  2d  of  April,  1860,  beloved  and  lamented  by  all  who  knew  him. 

t  "  Monsieur  Von  Rappard  was,  for  nearly  half  a  century,  Privy  Counsellor 
of  Prussia,  and  for  some  years  President  of  the  Council,  a  man  of  wealth  and 


16  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT. 

There,  under  the  devoted  care  of  three  friends  * 
of  his  college  days,  two  of  whom  came  most  unex 
pectedly  to  his  relief,  he  realized  that  to  the  darkest 
experiences  of  human  life  there  is  a  bright  side.  The 
friendships  thus  cemented,  never  to  be  interrupted 
but  by  death,  made  even  this  period  of  suffering  a 
pleasant  remembrance  to  him  ever  after. 

As  soon  as  his  strength  was  so  far  restored  as  to 
admit  of  his  being  again  a  traveller,  he  left  Switz 
erland  for  Paris,  whence  he  writes  :  — 

"  This  life  abroad  is  very  agreeable,  but  I  am  beginning  to 
have  my  misgivings  about  its  usefulness.  I  wish  I  had  more 
faith  in  that  '  expansion  of  mind/  etc.,  which  is  to  result  in 
sensibly  from  my  present  life.  Perhaps  when  I  begin  to 
move  again  my  mind  will  change,  but  just  at  present,  I  am 
pining  for  a  quiet  settlement  in  Boston,  with  my  few  irons 
in  my  feeble  fire,  and  a  professional  progress  that  would  tell. 
Whole  weeks  of  palaces,  pictures,  monuments,  etc.,  are  agree 
able,  but  is  not  that  all  ?  " 

After  repeated  visits  to  the  courts  of  Paris,  he 
says  :  — 

"  It  is  singular  to  note  the  same  manners  and  ways  in  the 
French  courts  that  I  have  seen  at  home  ;  and,  also,  the  same 
style  and  expression  of  face.  I  think  the  Law  has  an  influ 
ence  upon  the  features,  so  that  a  company  of  lawyers,  se 
lected  from  all  countries,  would  look  more  or  less  alike. 

"  It  seems  to  lengthen,  sharpen,  and  wither  the  face  ;  not 
that  there  are  not  hundreds  of  fat,  round-faced  ones,  but 

high  station.  In  1848,  his  family,  from  their  republican  tendencies,  became  fu 
gitives.  They  came  to  Switzerland,  and  made  Berne  their  winter  residence, 
and  purchased  the  Giessbach  for  a  summer  retreat." 

*  Charles  Wentworth  Upham,  Jr.,  Grad.  H.  U.  1852  ;  Horace  Howard  Fur- 
ness,  Grad.  H.  U.  1854 ;  Atherton  Blight,  Grad.  H.  U.  1854. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  17 

that  in  such  cases  Nature  has  been  too  strong  for  the  Law, 
or,  perhaps,  the  latter  has  never  contested  the  point  fairly." 

Again,  he  writes  :  — 

"  You  would  be  amused  and  instructed  by  the  economy 
of  Paris.  I  vised  to  think  that,  theoretically,  you  had  some 
thing  of  it  yourself,  and  that,  under  favorable  circumstances, 
you  might  develop  a  system  which  would  render  six  boys  a 
smaller  encumbrance  than  they  generally  prove  ;  but  you 
must  come  to  Paris  to  correct  the  many  extravagances 
of  even  your  theory.  Such  a  thing  as  a  breakfast  or  a  din 
ner  is  hardly  to  be  got  in  Paris,  except  where  foreigners  have 
introduced  their  own  comforts  or  extravagances.  But  you 
can  purchase  all  the  component  parts  of  any  meal,  and  regu 
late  the  proportions  at  pleasure.  It  will  come  to  you  with 
a  price  affixed  to  every  fragment,  and  your  total,  which  may 
be  great  or  small,  with  your  appetite  or  liberality,  will  al 
ways  be  composed  of  an  infinity  of  little  items  whose  sepa 
rate  feebleness  is  no  preparation  for  their  combined  force. 

"  The  total,  like  the  bundle  of  sticks,  is  strong  enough, 
but  one  has  great  contempt  for  the  two-penny  twigs  which 
compose  it.  To  a  practised  eye,  the  table,  as  it  is  spread  be 
fore  one,  represents  at  once  a  feast  and  its  price.  A  nation 
which  begins  by  adopting  a  currency  which  divides  a  franc 
into  one  hundred  parts,  and  which  thus  magnifies  small 
amounts  by  calling  ten  cents  fifty  centimes,  which  goes  on  to 
make  every  meal  a  sum  in  arithmetic,  and  forces  economy 
upon  one  by  affixing  its  separate  penalty  to  every  petty  ex 
travagance,  may  easily  become,  under  the  slightest  pressure, 
most  accurately  and,  to  an  uninitiated  eye,  rather  painfully 
economical.  My  landlady  rose,  last  week,  a  few  centimes 
on  the  bread,  and  informed  me  of  it  with  an  orotund  em 
phasis  intended  to  frighten  me  out  of  my  appetite.  I  was 
able,  on  reflection,  to  face  the  total  with  Yankee  equanimity. 

"  By  dividing  their  money  into  such  minute  fractions, 

they  can  register  every  item  of  expense,  affix  its  value  to 
2 


18  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

every  article,  and  speak  respectfully  of  amounts  for  which 
we  have  no  name." 

When  lie  was  about  to  leave  Paris  for  Spain.,  he 
wrote  :  — 

"  Leaving  Paris  calls  for  the  same  preparations  and  effort 
as  leaving  home.  You  get  quietly  and  comfortably  settled 
here,  and  to  recur  to  discomforts  and  vexations  of  a  port 
manteau  and  a  carpet-bag  requires  resolution  and  energy. 
My  French  teacher,  whose  Parisian  habits  of  morning  coffee, 
eleven  o'clock  dejeune,  and  evening  dinner,  leave  no  want 
unsatisfied,  and  no  aspiration  unattained,  cannot  understand 
why  Monsieur  D wight,  who  has  such  a  joli  appartement  aveo 
ses  bons  amis,  and  with  the  facilities  and  delights  of  Paris  at 
his  elbow,  can  think  of  going  to  seek  annoyance  and  irregu 
larity  in  inhospitable  Spain. 

"  But  he  yields  gracefully  to  the  separation,  and  has  just 
been  making  his  profuse  and  obsequious  adieux  with  endless 
repetition  of  l  bon  voyage*  '  au  plaisir  de  vous  revoirj  and 


From  Madrid  he  writes  more  confidently  of  the  ad 
vantages  of  travelling  than  he  did,  during  the  previ 
ous  month,  from  Paris. 

"  What  a  stimulus  being  on  the  spot  is  !  I  long  to  read  a 
hundred  books  about  early  Spanish  history,  and  I  constantly 
feel  how  little  I  am  prepared  for  travel.  Perhaps  I  never 
should  become  much  more  so  by  waiting  at  home,  and  it  is 
in  this  belief  that  I  reconcile  myself  to  staying  now.  I  read 
and  pick  up  whatever  I  can,  keeping  my  eyes  open,  my  mind 
alive,  and  my  body  active.  There  is  no  discipline  better  for 
the  development  of  energy,  physical  and  mental,  than  vigor 
ous  travelling.  You  have  uncertainties  before  you,  are 
bothered  with  difficulties,  thrown  upon  the  resources  of  a 
ready  invention,  and  enticed  and  rewarded  by  novelties. 
Every  day  'furnishes  new  opportunities,  kindles  fresh  curi- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS   OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  19 

osity,  and  opens  further  vistas.  The  mere  routine  of  living 
changes  with  almost  every  change  of  place.  The  daily  walk 
teaches  a  thousand  things  and  explains  innumerable  ques 
tions This  evening,  I  have  been  querying  a  good 

deal  about  the  wisdom  of  running  away  from  home,  and  I 
incline,  now  and  then,  to  question  it ;  but,  on  the  whole,  I 
believe  the  time  lost  is  much  more  than  compensated,  and 
I  am  quite  content  that  the  past  is  as  it  is. 

"  About  the  future  I  cannot  yet  feel  entirely  decided,  but 
I  beg  you  to  believe  that,  however  I  act,  my  good  purposes 
for  becoming  an  active  and,  in  my  degree,  a  useful  man 
are  not  relinquished,  if  I  allow  them  to  seem  slightly  post 
poned." 

Of  the  "  mode  of  life  in  Spain  "  he  says  :  — 

"  They  practise  a  simplicity  and  severity  of  economy  and 
abstemiousness  in  this  unhappy  country  which  astonishes  a 
New-England  housekeeper.  Take  the  dinner,  for  example. 
I  am  told  that  in  most  well-regulated  Spanish  families  it  re 
solves  itself  into  what  we  should  call  soup ;  that  is,  a  stew 
is  made  of  beef,  pork,  beans,  and,  perchance,  cabbage.  The 
juice  of  these  ingredients  opens  the  dinner,  while  the 
viands  and  vegetables  are  served  up  as  separate  courses. 
In  that  way  you  have  the  semblance  of  a  dinner,  the  form 
of  recurring  courses,  but,  in  truth,  the  goodness  was  all 
boiled  out,  and  has  been  eaten  in  the  soup.  This  dish  of 
beef  which  has  yielded  itself  up,  heart  and  soul,  to  some 
former  pottage,  and  beans  which  have  exhausted  their 
strength  in  support  of  the  same  alliance,  is  the  invariable 
accompaniment  of  every  dinner. 

"  Like  many  other  Spanish  institutions,  it  presents  the 
faint  shadow  of  former  greatness,  and  mocks  the  senses  with 
a  show  of  nutrition  whose  substance  vanished  in  some  former 
age.  It  is  the  tattered  cloak  of  some  bygone  Don,  and  ill 
conceals  the  poverty  and  rags  which  remain.  In  short,  I 
think  that  the  regeneration  of  Spain  must  commence  by  the 


20  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

introduction  of  roast  beef  and  boiled  mutton.  How  low 
must  that  nation  have  fallen  which  can  feast  itself  upon  the 
degraded  and  effete  shreds  of  a  once  rich  and  juicy  roasting- 
piece,  —  whose  only  birthright  is  a  mess  of  pottage  ! 

"  My  guide-book  —  invaluable  prompter  to  astute  observa 
tions —  says  that  the  people  of  Spain  eat  to  live,  but  do  not 
live  to  eat.  I  suppose  the  truth  to  be,  that,  except  under  the 
pressure  of  a  harsh  necessity,  they  are  very  much  like  their 
neighbors,  and  love  a  good  thing  when  they  can  get  it.  The 
truth  is,  they  are  poor." 

Of  a  visit  to  Malaga  he  says :  — 

"  I  wandered  outside  the  town,  and  seeing  a  pretty  chapel 
on  the  summit  of  a  hill,  followed  the  path,  which  had  fre 
quent  white  crosses  as  stations  and  resting-places  for  devout 
pilgrims.  On  my  way  up  I  met  a  lady,  followed  by  her  ser 
vant,  who  were  slowly  picking  their  way  over  the  sharp  stones 
which  strewed  the  path.  My  ignorance  was  attributing 
their  slow  and  difficult  descent  to  thin  shoes,  when  a  close 
inspection  showed  me  that  the  evil  consisted  in  a  total  want 
of  that  protection.  They  took  their  penance  gingerly,  how 
ever,  and  went  as  lightly  and  smoothly  along  the  hard  path 
of  repentance  as  its  steepness  and  stoniness  permitted.  The 
atonement  seemed  harsh,  and  their  poor  white  feet  were 
well  punished  for  any  former  wanderings.  They  passed  me 
muttering  prayers  and  devoutly  watching  their  steps ;  and  I 
thought,  as  I  looked  after  them,  what  a  coarse  and  clumsy 
expedient  the  poor  women  had  put  their  faith  in." 

After  leaving  Malaga  he  met  "  on  board  the  trans 
port  ship  Sovereign,"  going  to  Gibraltar,  some  Cri 
mean  officers,  in  whose  account  of  their  adventures 
he  became  greatly  interested.  After  the  pleasant 
hours  passed  with  them  he  writes,  with  no  premoni 
tion  of  his  own  future  :  — 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  21 

"  It  brings  one  much  nearer  the  horrors  of  war  to  meet  a 
few  men  fresh  from  its  experiences,  than  to  read  a  great 
deal  of  graphic  description.  And  we  realized  the  sadness 
which  follows  many  of  those  young  officers  home,  when  our 
Irish  friend  could  not  speak,  except  with  tears,  of  the  loss  of 
a  brother  officer  who  had  been  his  tent  companion." 

In  looking  back  upon  Spain,  where  some  of  the 
pleasantest  days  of  his  wanderings  were  passed  in  the 
renewed  companionship  of  the  friends  who  had  nursed 
him  so  tenderly  in  Switzerland,  —  the  "  Giessbach 
Club/'  as  he  says  Upham  calls  it,  —  he  writes:  — 

"  It  is  singular  to  recollect  the  difference  between  my 
feelings  on  entering  and  on  leaving  Spain.  Even  its  dis 
comforts  have  lost  all  their  harshness,  and  many  of  its  an 
noyances  I  shall  regret." 

After  an  interesting  tour  through  Italy,  he  joined 
his  friends  of  the  Giessbach  Club  again  in  Constan 
tinople.  With  them  he  visited  Balaklava,  Sebasto- 
pol,  the  Malakoff,  and  the  Eedan.  He  speaks  of 
finding  himself  by  the  grave  of  the  French  soldiers 
who  were  killed  in  the  attack  on  the  Malakoff.  "  At 
its  head,"  he  says,  "  is  a  cross  bearing  the  inscription : 
6  Sth  Septembre,  1855.  Unis  pour  la  victoire,  R&unis 
par  la  mort.  Du  soldat  c'est  la  gloire,  Des  braves 
c'est  le  sort.' " 

From  Constantinople  he  went  to  Athens,  and  thence, 
a  second  time,  to  Paris,  whence  he  wrote  :  — 

"  Time  here  is  beguiled  of  all  its  power,  and  slips  lightly 
away ;  at  least  to  that  male  portion  of  humanity  who  are  not 
condemned  to  an  existence  of  shopping  and  dressmakers. 
Ladies  work  harder  here,  suffer  more,  and  are  still  stronger 
than  I  could  have  believed.  The  choice,  too,  is  so  extensive 


22  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

that  it  ought  to  be  distracting.  I  called  the  other  morning 
upon  Mrs. .  She  was  seated  in  the  midst  of  an  enor 
mous  pile  of  lace,  embroideries,  pocket-handkerchiefs,  etc., — 
in  a  perfect  labyrinth  of  francs  and  phrases  which  my  limited 
French  could  not  achieve.  Standing  near  her,  awaiting  the 
exit  of  the  handkerchiefs,  was  a  pliant,  plausible,  apologetic 
Frenchman,  loaded  with  black  lace,  and  holding  out  one 
piece  very  temptingly  to  entice  her  away  from  the  '  mou- 
choirs.'  On  the  other  side,  a  nice,  natty  little  milliner,  with 
that  marvellous  union  and  harmony  of  ribbon  and  lace, 
called  a  head-dress  in  English  and  a  coif  —  something  or 
other  in  French,  in  one  hand,  and  a  bewildering  array  of 
bandboxes  at  her  side,  was  awaiting  her  turn.  In  a  corner 
was  an  artist  trying  to  obtain  another  sitting  for  his  picture, 
and  my  own  visit  concerned  a  pair  of  slippers  which  I  had 

purchased  for  the  fair  Mrs. in  Constantinople.     This 

was  the  tableau  upon  which  the  Doctor  entered  who  has 
been  trying  for  the  last  two  weeks  to  restore  her  to  her 
former  health.  I  thought,  from  the  expression  of  his  face, 
that  if  he  knew  of  a  purgative  which  would  act  upon  these 
various  imps  of  fashion  it  would  have  been  his  first  prescrip 
tion.  This  is  the  way  people  travel  in  Europe  for  their 
health,  with  the  other  aggravations  of  Paris  dinners,  an  oc 
casional  theatre,  or  a  tedious  reunion.  I  have  been  led,  in 
view  of  all  this,  to  consider  how  much  mental  excitement 
and  physical  prostration  is  every  day  represented  by  the  toi 
lettes  of  the  Boulevard.  It  is  a  sad  problem,  for  there  does 
not  seem  enough  domestic  tranquillity  left  after  the  subtrac 
tion  to  furnish  that  blessing  to  more  than  one  family  in  a 
hundred,  without  considering  the  other  and  numerous  drafts 
upon  the  meagre  remainder  which  must  result  from  other 
causes.  Yet  those  things  are  vastly  pretty.  In  face  of  all 
these  drawbacks,  I  still  think  that  a  well-dressed  woman  is 
the  highest  effort  of  modern  civilization." 

After  a  run  through  England  and  Scotland,  he  re- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  23 

turned  home  in  the  summer  of  1856,  and  resumed 
his  studies  in  the  office  of  the  Hon.  Caleb  Gushing, 
Attorney-General  of  the  United  States.  Soon  after 
reaching  Washington  he  wrote  :  — 

"  I  have  changed  my  boarding-place  during  the  past  week, 
and  I  have  been  very  much  amused  with  the  politics  of  my 
new  table.  The  patron  of  the  establishment  is  a  broken- 
down  judge ;  ruined  himself,  I  believe,  with  copper,  has  got 
an  amiable,  mild  wife  and  twelve  children.  Under  these  ad 
vantages  and  disadvantages,  having  always  professed  sound 
Democratic  principles,  the  Land  Office  opened  its  doors  and 
received  him  to  a  small  salary.  The  wife  and  children  —  the 
latter  for  the  most  part  daughters  —  aid  the  fallen  fortunes  of 
the  family  by  keeping  boarders.  They  gather  around  their 
board  merchants  who  have  failed  in  everything  but  Democ 
racy,  and  are  therefore  clerks,  and  young  men  whose  fa 
thers  or  uncles  have  aided  the  cause,  and  one  or  two  army 
officers.  The  table,  however,  takes  its  tone  from  the  govern 
ment  clerks,  whose  life  outside  of  the  routine  of  office  is  one 
prolonged  echo  of '  democratic  principles.'  I  presume  there 
are  one  hundred  tables  in  Washington  which  assemble  the 
same  motley  crowd  and  are  enlivened  with  the  same  mono 
tone  of  politics We  have  several  quaint  oddities 

whose  conversation  is  agreeable.  They  are  full  of  the  gos 
siping  history  of  the  past  twenty  years,  —  personal  anecdotes 
of  celebrated  men  and  famous  debates,  —  so  that  one  picks 
up  a  great  deal  of  entertainment ;  at  the  expense,  however, 
of  no  little  loss  of  time.  These  fellows  are  confirmed  loafers, 
and  chat  away  their  leisure  with  great  success.  I  have  the 
example  of  the  Attorney-General  as  a  corrective.  He  is  at 
his  office  before  seven,  and  does  not  see  his  bed  until  the 
small  hours  of  the  next  morning.  I  do  not  see  how,  with 
out  sleep,  without  recreation  or  diversion,  he  sustains  the 
immense  labor  which  he  does.  He  looks  young,  too, 
through  it  all,  ancl  is  keen  and  lively  as  if  he  were  thirty." 


24  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

At  the  end  of  two  months,  lie  returned  to  Boston, 
and  continued  his  studies  in  the  office  of  the  Hon. 
E.  R  Hoar  and  Horace  Gray,  Esq.  Here  he  not 
only  enjoyed  the  best  possible  professional  advan 
tages,  but  he  had  also  the  happiness  of  forming 
friendships  by  which  his  after  life  was  greatly  en 
riched. 

In  January,  1857,  he  writes  to  his  friend  Ftirness  :  — 

"  If  you  could  see  a  young  man  getting  up  under  the  first 
faint  symptoms  of  dawn,  breakfasting,  and  rushing  to  town 
by  steam,  sitting  down  in  an  office  in  Court  Street,  and 
wearing  through  the  days  of  preparation  with  no  definite 
idea  of  what  he  is  preparing  for,  —  rushing  off  again  under 
cover  of  twilight,  and  dining  after  his  labors,  from  a  habit 
formed  abroad  !  —  if,  I  say,  you  could  observe  this  phenome 
non  daily,  —  if  you  could  see  him  moving  in  obedience  to 
an  impulse  which  knows  no  relenting,  you  might  have  the 
friendliness  to  hope  that  he  was  on  the  way  to  something 
good  and  desirable,  but  you  could  not  help  shivering  at  the 
thought  that '  the  way  was  long,  the  night  was  cold.' 

"  My  dear  fellow,  the  law  is  the  perfection  of  human  rea 
son  when  you  begin  to  read  it,  while  you  keep  away  from 
men  and  affairs.  But  the  closer  you  come  to  men  and 
things,  the  less  perfect  it  grows  to  you." 

Again,  two  months  later,  he  says  :  — 

"  If  you  have  any  curiosity  about  me,  I  can  say  for  myself 
that  I  am  learning  to  labor  and  to  wait,  in  true  lawyer-like 
fashion." 

In  his  diary  of  the  summer  of  1857  are  the  follow 
ing  records :  "  Saturday,  July  ISth.  Took  office  at. 
No.  35  Court  Street."  And,  again,  "  Monday,  Sep 
tember  2Sth.  Sign  up.  Office  open." 


LTFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  25 

In  January,  1858,  he  writes  to  an  absent  brother :  — 

"  My  business  swells  by  little  rivulets  and  drippings,  and 
I  am  exceeding  my  expectations  of  success." 

Again,  he  says  :  — 

"  It  so  happens  that  my  practice  gets  on  swimmingly.  I 
am  afraid  of  a  lull,  but  the  wind  holds  remarkably." 

His  early  success  was,  doubtless,  greatly  clue  to  the 
confidence  in  his  ability  with  which  he  inspired  his 
friend  Judge  Abbott,  who  at  once  employed  him  as 
junior  counsel  in  important  cases,  and  of  whose  gener 
ous  kindness  he  never  ceased  to  speak  with  gratitude. 

In  addressing  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court,  upon 
the  occasion  of  the  death  of  his  departed  friend,* 
Judge  Abbott  says  :  — 

"  I  can  say  in  reference  to  my  appreciation  of  him  what  I 
know  you  will  appreciate  as  the  highest  evidence  in  my 
judgment  of  his  qualifications  as  a  lawyer,  that  I  have 
come  up  before  you  and  your  associates,  —  the  tribunal 
which  I  most  respect  above  human  tribunals,  —  depending 
entirely  upon  briefs  furnished  by  my  associate,  this  young 
man. 

"I  have  trusted,  —  beginning  with  the  first  cause  he  ever 
had  occasion  to  try  after  being  admitted  to  the  bar,  — 
trusted,  what  I  should  rarely  do,  the  entire  preparation  of 
causes  to  him,  and  sat  down  to  the  trial  of  them  without 
any  personal  attention  to  the  preparation  myself.  That,  Sir, 
is  the  highest  possible  testimony  I  can  give,  as  to  my  own 
belief,  as  to  his  qualifications  and  prospects." 

In  the  spring  of  1859  he  became  the  partner  of 
Horace  Gray,  Esq.,  in  whose  office  he  had  formerly 
been  a  student. 

*  See  Appendix  III. 


26  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

The  relation  which  Judge  Gray  held  to  him,  afford 
ing  opportunity  for  intimate  acquaintance,  gives  pecu 
liar  value  to  his  estimate  of  him,  both  as  a  lawyer 
and  as  a  man.  From  the  warm  tribute  paid  him  by 
this  valued  friend,  at  the  meeting  of  the  Suffolk  Bar,* 
upon  the  occasion  of  his  death,  we  extract  the  fol 
lowing  :  — 

"  My  acquaintance  with  him  began  when,  introduced  by 
the  gentleman  who  has  just  spoken,  he  applied  to  enter 
my  office  as  a  student  when  I  was  about  to  form  a  connec 
tion  in  practice  with  the  present  Mr.  Justice  Hoar.  I  had 
occasion  to  hear  all  his  arguments  upon  questions  of  law 
before  the  Supreme  Court. 

"  And  after  he  had  become  my  partner,  it  was  in  his 
room  that  the  first  steps  were  taken  toward  getting  up  the 
Second  Massachusetts  Regiment,  of  which  so  much  has 
been  already  said. 

"  And  I  can  truly  say,  that,  from  the  beginning  of  our 
acquaintance,  my  love,  my  respect,  and  my  admiration  for 
him  went  on  increasing  to  the  end. 

"  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  judge,  from  the  assistance  I 
derived  from  him,  first  as  a  student  and  afterwards  as  an 
associate,  and  from  having  been  present  at  the  argument  of 
nearly  all  the  questions  of  law  which  were  argued  before  the 
full  bench  of  the  Supreme  Court  while  he  was  at  the  Bar,  I 
should  find  it  hard  to  name  one  of  his  age  who  was  better 
grounded  in  the  principles  of  the  law.  And  I  think  I  may 
say,  that  I  have  never  known  any  young  man  who  combined, 
in  such  just  and  equal  proportions,  the  theory  to  be  learned 
from  the  books  with  a  readiness  of  practical  application  to 
the  facts  of  cases  as  they  came  up. 

"  It  has  been  said  here  to-day,  that  his  judgment  was  un 
commonly  mature  for  his  years,  and  that  is  true.  But  it  is 

*  See  Appendix  III. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  -27 

not  all.  He  did  not  rest  satisfied  with  what  he  had  attained. 
As  he  grew  older,  he  improved,  not  only  in  experience  and 
in  soundness  of  judgment,  but  in  breadth  of  view  and 
height  of  aim,  and  in  generous  consideration  of  the  efforts 
of  others  not  so  high  in  their  aims  or  so  fortunate  in  their 
faculties  as  himself.  He  had  no  mean  spirit  of  rivalry.  He 
ran,  not  to  pass  others  in  the  race,  but  to  reach  the  goal ; 
and  he  would  have  run  the  same  race  if  no  others  had  run 

with  him 

"  To  those  who  really  knew  him,  his  warmth  of  feeling 
was  not  less  remarkable  than  his  purity  of  principle  and 
his  strength  of  character.  None  but  his  intimate  friends 
knew  how  much  of  his  time  was  taken  up  in  acts  of  kind 
ness  and  charity." 

The  "  acts  of  kindness  and  charity "  here  men 
tioned  were  the  most  interesting  feature  of  his  pro 
fessional  life  to  those  who  watched  his  progress  with 
something  like  solicitude,  lest  the  practice  of  the  law, 
so  often  believed  to  exert  a  hardening  influence, 
added  to  the  success  which  seemed  to  attend  every 
thing  he  undertook,  should  induce  a  spirit  of  selfish 
ness  in  place  of  the  readiness  for  disinterested  effort 
which,  from  early  boyhood,  had  been  one  of  his  great 
est  attractions. 

This  anxiety  was  relieved,  as  it  was  seen  that  his 
very  profession  led  him  to  "  weep  with  them  that  wept," 
and  to  "  rejoice  with  them  that  did  rejoice."  Most 
precious  are  the  memories  of  him  at  that  period  ; 
when,  his  heart  full  of  generous  impulse  and  kind  af 
fections,  he  went  forth  on  his  errands  of  mercy,  to 
"  feed  the  hungry,  to  clothe  the  naked,  to  visit  the 
stranger,  the  sick,  and  in  prison." 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  traits  of  his  manhood, 


28  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

which  greatly  endeared  him  at  home,  was  his  sym 
pathy  with  the  youngest  members  of  the  household. 
Whatever  were  his  own  occupations  and  pleasures, 
he  was  never  unmindful  of  theirs.  He  entered  into 
their  feelings,  and  made  their  interests  his  own. 
Especially  did  he  enjoy  doing  everything  in  his 
power  to  make  their  childhood  happy.' 

When  the  annual  festivals  came  round,  it  was  for 
their  sakes  that  he  welcomed  them.  No  one  now  re 
maining  in  the  once  unbroken  family  circle  can  ever 
forget  how  on  Christmas  Eve,  after  "  the  little  boys," 
as  they  were  called,  were  safely  in  bed,  he  would 
appear  in  the  parlor,  his  face  bright  with  smiles, 
his  arms  laden  with  gifts  which  it  had  been  his  pleas 
ure  to  procure,  and  which  it  was  then  his  pleasure  to 
arrange  for  them  in  anticipation  of  the  coming  day. 

Throughout  his  life  he  took  delight  in  children. 
When,  after  a  fatiguing  day  in  the  practice  of  his 
profession,  he  returned  home  worn  and  weary,  he 
used  to  say  that  nothing  so  rested  and  refreshed  him 
as  a  good  frolic  with  a  child. 

There  are  others,  besides  those  of  his  own  family, 
whom  he  left  in  childhood  and  youth,  —  some  since 
grown,  others  fast  growing,  into  womanhood  and 
manhood,  —  who  remember  him  as  one  to  whom  they 
looked  up  with  respect,  yet  who  never  felt  too  far 
beyond  them  in  years  to  join  in  their  sports,  and 
to  sympathize  in  their  interests  and  pursuits. 

In  one  household,  where  he  was  most  familiarly 
welcomed,  it  was  said,  after  his  death  :  — 

"  Everything  we  do  seems  to  have  some  association  with 
nim.  To-night  we  are  reminded  of  the  interest  he  showed 
in  the  children's  recitations  of  the  catechism. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  29 

"  One  Sunday  evening  is  particularly  remembered,  when, 
in  the  absence  of  their  father,  the  children  brought  out  the 
big  Bible  and  laid  it  before  him,  and  told  him  he  must  be 
father ;  and  he  sat  down  and  read  with  them  all  the  Sunday 
evening  chapters,  with  as  much  interest  and  earnestness  as 
if  it  had  been  his  own  family  circle." 

His  favorite  recreation  —  to  which,  from  the  time 
he  entered  college,  lie  gave  some  weeks  of  every 
summer  —  was  found  in  camping  out  for  hunting 
and  fishing  among  the  forests  and  lakes  of  the  Adi- 
rondacks  or  the  White  Mountains. 

His  high  enjoyment  of  this  rough  life  in  the  woods 
is  characteristically  expressed  in  the  following  extract 
from  a  letter  written  in  the  course  of  an  expedition  on 
foot  through  the  White  Mountains :  — 

"  I  do  not  propose  to  give  you  anything  more  than  a 
glance  at  ten  days  very  full  of  work  and  play,  and  very  rich 
in  adventure  and  bracing  health.  There  is  a  vital  cordial 
in  this  northern  air  which  justifies  almost  any  amount  of 
panegyric.  Think  of  toiling  seven  or  eight  hours  through 
the  woods,  over  what  is  called  a  logging  path,  —  leaping  over 
stones,  avoiding,  or  failing  to  avoid,  stumps  and  trees,  un 
dergrowth  and  overgrowth,  up  over  hills,  down  through 
swamps,  wet  by  showers,  drenched  to  the  skin  at  the  very 
moment  when  the  dinner,  trout,  just  caught  from  the  brook, 
was  beginning  to  bubble  and  sputter  over  the  fire,  eating 
it,  at  last,  half- cooked  and  wet,  sleeping  in  the  open  air 
on  hemlock-boughs,  before  a  fire  glowing  and  crackling 
through  the  night  with  all  the  glare  and  sparkle  of  birch  and 
oak,  waking  to  a  bath  in  the  brook,  and  an  expedition,  in 
pursuit  of  breakfast,  to  some  stream  before  the  mists  of 
morning  have  uncovered  the  sleeping  lake,  or  while  they 
and  the  heavens  are  lighting  up  with  that  glory  of  sunrise 
which  no  one  ever  enjoyed  as  he  who  met  it  alone  and  rising 


30  LIFE   AND    LETTEES    OF   WILDER   D  WIGHT. 

from  no  bed.  Or,  again,  rising  at  midnight  to  a  moonlight 
clear,  calm,  glorious,  etc.,  etc.  This  is  incoherent,  nonsensi 
cal,  anything  you  will,  but  I  have  had  a  week  of  it,  varied 
with  pleasure  and  disappointment,  success  and  failure,  great 
luck  in  fishing,  no  luck  in  shooting,  but  full  of  sport  and  life 
and  health. 

"  To  tread  with  a  sensation  of  leg,  to  strike  with  a  sensa 
tion  of  arm,  to  thrill  with  a  quickness  and  buoyancy  of 
life,  is  the  boon  of  great  worth  which  comes  of  such  a  trip 
To  write  without  grammar  or  sequence  is  one  of  its  fatal 
consequences.  Life  in  the  woods,  —  the  minimum  of  con 
venience  and  comfort,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  minimum 
of  desire  and  need.  The  few  necessities  more  than  sup 
plied.  Every  spring  is  your  fountain,  every  brook  holds 
your  food,  the  whole  forest  for  your  fuel,  the  nearest  bush 
gives  you  a  pot-hook,  a  crane,  and  a  spit 

"  I  need  not  say  that  I  have  enjoyed  the  sensation  of 
perfect  health  and  animal  vigor,  and  the  exhilaration  of 
the  life  very  much." 

For  several  successive  years  he  visited  his  chosen 
haunts  in  "  the  forest  primeval  "  of  the  Adirondack^. 

In  one  dwelling,  at  the  foot  of  the  Upper  Saranac, 
where  year  after  year  he  stopped  to  be  fitted  out  for 
camp  life,  his  memory  is  cherished  as  one  would 
hardly  expect  it  to  be  beyond  his  own  home. 
"  When  I  heard  of  his  death/'  said  the  kind  hostess, 
"  it  made  me  sick,  and  I  think  I  have  shed  more 
tears  for  him  than  for  any  relation  I  ever  lost.  I 
know  it  is  wrong  to  mourn  so  for  him ;  but  though 
two  years  have  passed,  every  spot  in  the  house  seems 
to  bring  him  to  my  mind,  and  I  can't  be  reconciled  to 
the  thought  that  I  shall  never  see  him  here  again." 
Thus  did  he  impress  himself  upon  all  with  whom  he 
had  to  do. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  31 

During  his  last  expedition  of  the  kind,  in  August, 
1860,  he  wrote  gayly  :  — 

"  CAMP  CONTENT,  FORKED  LAKE,  August  25,  1860. 

"  This  letter  comes  from  our  pleasant  camping-ground, 
and  its  date  may  indicate  that  the  week  here  has  flown 

on  even  wing There  is  little  enough  to  write  you  in 

the  way  of  news.  It  is  the  glad  tidings  of  '  no  news  '  to 
which  I  am  listening  with  great  tranquillity.  A  fly  skipping 
lightly  over  the  water,  and  anon  a  trout  rising  snappishly  and 
spinning  away  with  the  hook.  The  same,  subsequently  fried, 
—  not  the  hook.  A  buck  leaping  into  the  lake,  and  swim 
ming  wildly  right  into  the  muzzle  of  a  rifle,  —  a  subsequent 
honorable  career  of  steaks  and  roasts.  A  morning  sunrise 
and  a  glowing  sunset,  —  to  pass  from  the  more  material  phe 
nomena.  John  King  for  guide,  who  just  suggests,  —  seeing 
me  use  fine  salt  for  sand  on  my  page,  — '  I  guess  that  letter 
won't  spile  before  it  gets  there.'  An  occasional  novel,  and 
a  great  many  vacant  naps  and  reveries,  are  the  positive  en 
joyments.  The  absence  of  everything  else  kindles  a  glow  of 

negative  delights We  have  had  no  end  of  sport,  in  its 

technical  sense  ;  —  eight  deer,  and  sixty  trout  in  a  week  !  " 

A  year  from  that  day,  "  Camp  Content,  Forked 
Lake,"  was  exchanged  for  a  soldier's  tent  in  a  mili 
tary  camp,  on  the  soil  of  Maryland. 


32  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 


CHAPTER    II. 

MR.  LINCOLN'S  INAUGURATION.  —  FALL  OF  SUMTER.  —  EFFORTS  TO 
RAISE  A  REGIMENT  FOR  THE  WAR.  —  JOURNEY  TO  WASHINGTON. 
—  APPROVAL  OF  THE  PROPOSED  REGIMENT  BY  THE  SECRETARY 
OF  WAR. 

WILDER  DWIGHT  never  entered  so  zealously 
into  any  political  campaign  as  lie  did  into  that 
of  the  autumn  of  1860,  which  preceded  Mr.  Lincoln's 
election  to  the  Presidency,  to  which  object  he  gave 
himself  with  his  accustomed  energy.  Some  weeks 
after  the  election  he  wrote  as  follows  to  the  beloved 
brother,  who  was  then  a  citizen  of  Tennessee  :  — 

"  DEAR  HOWARD,  —  A  merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New 
Year.  Liberty  and  Union.  Any  Session  except  Secession. 
If  the  order  of  things  is  not  subverted,  and  if  the  United 
States  mail  has  not  become  a  reminiscence  and  a  regret,  this 
will  bring  you  a  token  of  the  kind  remembrance  of  your 
foreign  relations.  Whatever  national  flag  floats  over  you, 
we  wish  you  a  better  year  than  ever  before.  We  drank  to 
you  (only  with  our  eyes)  on  Christmas  Day,  and  all  em 
powered  me  to  send  you  greeting.  Acting  under  that  in 
formal  power  of  attorney,  —  the  power  of  an  attorney  is  my 
constant  strength,  —  I  wish  you  a  God  speed  on  your  jour 
ney,  and  pray  that  out  of  the  present  darkness  there  may 
come  a  light.  Just  now,  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  see  where 
it  is  to  come  from.  But  I  have  faith  in  the  Constitution, 
not  as  a  legend  or  a  bargain,  but  as  a  great  social  and  physi 
cal  national  condition.  Those  who  kick  against  it  will  soon 
feel  the  pricks.  But  madness  and  folly  often  produce  dam 
nable  consequences.  I  send  you  an  anchor,  and  commend 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF  WILDER    D WIGHT.  33 

you  to  the  hope  it  symbolizes.     I  know  no  other  wisdom. 
God  bless  you." 

After  attending  the  inauguration  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
he  wrote,  at  the  close  of  the  day,  the  following  hasty 
sketch  of  the  scene  :  — 

"  WASHINGTON,  March  4,  1861. 

"  DEAR  FATHER,  —  This  morning  broke  badly,  but  at  noon 
the  sky  cleared.  I  remained  quietly  at  Willard's,  and  was 
present  when  Mr.  Buchanan  came  to  receive  the  President 
elect,  and  saw  the  interview,  which  was  a  formal  one ;  then 
I  saw  Lincoln  and  Buchanan  take  their  carriage,  and  the 
whole  procession  pass.  I  then  took  a  carriage,  and,  by  back 
streets,  reached  the  Capitol  grounds,  and  got  a  good  place. 
Soon  Lincoln  and  Judge  Taney,  followed  by  Buchanan  and 
the  other  judges,  etc.,  appeared.  The  band  played  Hail 
Columbia.  The  crowd  was  immense.  The  Capitol  steps 
were  covered  with  uniforms,'  etc.  Baker,  of  Oregon,  of  the 
Committee  of  Arrangements,  announced  that  Mr.  Lincoln 
would  speak  ;  and  when  Abraham  rose  and  came  forward 
and  rang  out  the  words,  '  Fellow-citizens  of  the  United 
States,'  he  loomed  and  grew,  and  was  ugly  no  longer.  I 
was  not  very  near,  but  heard  him  perfectly.  The  address 
you  will  read,  and  like,  I  hope.  Its  effect  was  very  good. 
An  immense  concourse  —  thousands  —  stood  uncovered  and 
silent,  except  occasional  applause  ;  the  voice  clear  and  ring 
ing  ;  the  manner  very  good,  often  impressive,  and  even 
solemn  ;  the  words  I  think  to  the  point,  direct,  and  clear. 
The  scene  itself  was  of  its  own  kind.  And  I  must  say  its 
effect  upon  me  was  far  greater  than  I  had  supposed.  When 
the  address  closed,  and  the  cheering  subsided,  Taney  rose, 
and,  almost  as  tall  as  Lincoln,  he  administered  the  oath, 
Lincoln  repeating  it ;  and  as  the  words,  i  preserve,  protect, 
and  defend  the  Constitution'  came  ringing  out,  he  bent  and 
kissed  the  book  ;  and  for  one,  I  breathed  freer  and  gladder 


34  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

than  for  months.     The  man  looked  a  man,  and  acted  a  man 
and  a  President.     So  much  for  inauguration." 

A  month  later,  on  the  1st  of  April,  1861,  he 
wrote  :  — 

"  DEAR  HOWARD,  —  You  will  hear  by  mail  of  grandfa 
ther's  death  *  through  D.'s  letter.  It  was  worthy  of  a  calm, 
wise,  and  benevolent  life,  and  was  full  of  every  hope  which 
belongs  to  the  last  hour." 

Two  weeks  later  he  received  his  own  call  to  "  arise 
and  depart."  The  first  gun  fired  on  Sumter  was  his 
summons.  When  the  awful  tidings  came,  he  closed 
his  law-books,  never  again  to  return  to  his  beloved 
profession.  Then  he  wrote  hastily  from  Boston, 
where  for  some  days  he  had  been  detained :  — 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  expect  to  bring  out  Mr.  Blight,  of 
Philadelphia,  to  tea  to-morrow  evening.  I  will  send  you 
word  if  it  turns  out  he  cannot  come,  to-morrow,  by  father. 
I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  up  to  the  part  of  the  Spartan 
mother.  I  shall  not  come  out  to  Brookline  on  my  shield, 
but  I  am  all  ready  to  go." 

Of  his  position  and  prospects  at  this  time  none 
are  so  competent  to  speak  as  those  who  were  con 
nected  with  him  in  his  profession.  At  the  meeting 
of  the  Bar,t  upon  the  occasion  of  his  death,  his 
friend  Francis  E.  Parker,  Esq.  said  :  — 

"  He  had  everything  which  a  man  of  high  ambition  most 
desires.  He  had  youth  and  health,  fortune  and  friends,  a 
profession  in  which  he  delighted,  the  practical  talents 

*  The  Honorable  Daniel  Appleton  White  died  March  30, 1861,  in  the  eighty- 
fifth  year  of  his  age. 
t  See  Appendix  III. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  35 

which  smooth  the  way  in  it,  and  the  confidence  in  himself 
which  made  labor  light.  But  when  the  trouble  of  our 
country  came,  he  thought  that  all  advantages  and  successes 
which  did  not  aid  her  were  to  be  trampled  under  foot.  He 
gave  up  to  his  country,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  all 
that  he  had  gained  and  all  that  he  was." 

While  a  school-boy  at  West  Point,  as  the  term 
drew  near  its  close,  he  had  playfully  written  home : 
"  I  shall  '  to  the  right  about  face '  and  '  forward 
quick  march,'  when  the  term  is  over,  and  I  shall 
never  evince  any  desire  hereafter  to  shoulder  a  mus 
ket  or  wear  a  sword."  Even  now,  his  taste  was  un 
changed.  Truly  did  Mr.  Parker  say  of  him  :  "  He 
looked  the  dangers  of  his  new  profession  in  the  face,- 
not  fascinated  by  its  glitter,  nor  drawn  from  weightier 
thoughts  by  the  sound  of  martial  music ;  but  delib 
erately,  for  the  defence  of  the  law  and  the  support  of 
a  cause  which  he  solemnly  considered  to  be  just." 

We  cannot  better  present  the  efficient  manner 
in  which  he  responded  to  his  country's  call  than 
by  quoting  the  language  used  by  Hon.  Richard  H. 
Dana  concerning  him,  at  the  meeting  of  the  Bar  on 
the  occasion  already  alluded  to.*  Mr.  Dana  said  :  — 

"  He  had  that  combination  of  qualities  which  led  to  suc 
cess  in  whatever  he  undertook His  love  was  for 

that  kind  of  intelligent  labor  which  looks  to  specific  re 
sults He  had  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  himself, 

and  an  instinctive  knowledge  of  other  men.  He  adapted 
his  means  to  his  ends.  He  knew  what  he  was  suited  to 
do,  and  he  had  a  power  of  will,  a  faculty  of  concentration, 
and  patience,  perseverance,  and  confidence,  which  insured 
success. 

*  See  Appendix  III. 


36  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  He  allowed  no  waste.  He  was  as  far  as  possible  from 
anything  desultory.  When  the  war  broke  out,  he  determined 
to  become  a  soldier.  His  friends  knew  he  would  make  him 
self  one.  He  determined  to  offer  the  first  regiment  of  three 
years'  men  to  the  army,  and  he  did  so.  He  went  to  Wash 
ington  to  obtain  advantages  and  opportunities  most  difficult 
to  secure,  but  we  felt  that  he  would  succeed,  and  he  did 
succeed.  I  remember  seeing  him  at  the  State-House  seeking 
to  accomplish  certain  things  for  his  regiment  then  most  diffi 
cult  of  attainment.  He  had  the  cheerful  and  satisfied  look 
of  one  who  had  succeeded,  yet  he  had  but  begun.  A  com 
mon  friend  whom  I  met,  a  member  of  the  Governor's  staff, 
said  to  me  :  '  It  is  hard  to  do,  but  it  is  Wilder  Dwight,  and 
he  will  carry  it  through,'  and  he  did." 

Every  step  he  took  towards  the  prosecution  of  his 
work  illustrates  the  truth  of  Mr.  Dana's  words.  He 
began  by  associating  himself  with  two  gentlemen 
whose  West  Point  education  and  military  ability  and 
experience  secured  the  creation  of  such  a  regiment 
as  should  do  honor  to  Massachusetts.  Under  these 
teachers  he  was  a  faithful  student  in  military  tactics, 
and  made  rapid  progress  in  his  new  profession.  He 
suffered  not  a  day  to  pass,  after  the  news  from  Sum- 
ter,  before  opening  a  subscription-paper  to  guarantee 
the  expenses  which  would  be  incurred  in  the  enter 
prise.  His  cheerful  presence  met  a  warm  welcome 
from  all  whom  he  approached,  and  he  had  but  to  pre 
sent  his  claim  to  receive  a  cordial  response.  The 
money  thus  raised  enabled  him  and  his  associates  to 
prosecute  their  enterprise  without  delay. 

The  practical  difficulty  in  their  way  was,  that  there 
was  no  law  at  that  time,  either  of  the  United  States 
or  the  Commonwealth,  under  which  it  could  be  car- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  37 

ried  into  operation.  It  was  necessary  to  obtain  from 
the  Secretary  of  War  special  authority  for  the  enlist 
ment  and  control  of  the  proposed  regiment.  For 
this  purpose,  on  the  25th  of  April,  1861,  while  the 
excitement  which  followed  the  Baltimore  riot  was  at 
its  height,  and  the  usual  communication  with  the 
seat  of  government  was  cut  off,  he  left  Boston  with 
Mr.  Andrews  (the  future  lieutenant-colonel  of  the 
regiment),  and  went  by  the  way  of  Annapolis  to 
Washington.  Of  this  eventful  journey  he  wrote  the 
following  account,  which  was  published  at  the  time. 

"  To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  TRANSCRIPT  :  — 

"  A  visit  to  Washington  is  not,  now,  a  peaceful  excursion 
to  the  theatre  of  party  politics.  It  is  a  military  expedition 
to  the  seat  of  war.  The  path  is  not  crowded  with  hungry 
or  satisfied  office-seekers,  but  it  is  lined  with  eager,  devoted, 
and  patriotic  soldiers.  There  is  much  to  learn  by  the  way, 
and  I  propose  to  give  you  a  few  of  the  incidents  and  reflec 
tions  of  my  journey. 

"  The  ticket-master  at  the  depot  in  Philadelphia,  on  Fri 
day,  April  26,  at  noon,  said,  as  he  gave  me  my  ticket :  4  This 
will  take  you  to  Perryville,  and  there  you  must  trust  to 
luck.'  When  we  reached  Elkton,  we  found  Sherman's  Bat 
tery,  which  is  there  stationed,  actively  engaged  in  going 
through  a  drill,  loading  palpable  cannon  with  imaginary 
grape,  and  discharging  them  without  fire,  making  the  mo 
tions  of  attack.  There  were  violent  secession  symptoms 
there  a  few  days  before  the  arrival  of  these  silent  but  elo 
quent  monitors.  Now  the  American  flag  feels  the  breeze 
without  a  shiver.  Long  before  we  reached  Perryville,  th6 
armed  sentinels  along  the  road  showed  that  we  were  within 
the  sphere  of  the  rebellion.  At  Perryville  we  reported  to 
Colonel  Dare,  who  is  in  command  of  that  post,  and  by  him 
we  were  put  on  our  journey  in  a  small  steam-tug,  crowded 


38  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

with  troops.  A  tedious  sail  of  six  hours  brought  us  to  An 
napolis  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Here  we  reported  to 
General  Butler  at  his  head-quarters,  and,  delivering  our 
despatches,  asked  him  to  put  us  on  our  journey  to  Wash 
ington.  The  General  was  the  centre  of  action  and  influence. 
His  rapid  and  dashing  executive  ability  had  just  opened  the 
path  to  the  Capital.  Bringing  with  him,  in  his  regiment, 
every  resource  of  Yankee  ingenuity  and  courage,  he  rebuilt 
a  railroad,  revived  an  exhausted  engine,  or  renewed  a  tele 
graphic  battery,  with  equal  facility.  But  we  found  him  at 
the  more  difficult  duty  of  feeding  troops  without  proper 
food,  and  sheltering  them  almost  without  tent  or  blanket. 
Luckily,  however,  the  mild  climate  made  exposure  less 
dangerous,  and  every  day  things  were  growing  better. 

"  After  tedious  but  inevitable  delays,  the  special  train 
started  on  Saturday  morning  at  nine  o'clock.  We  went  on 
our  way,  escorted  by  a  detachment  of  Massachusetts  troops. 
At  intervals  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  we  stopped  to  replace  a 
rail,  drive  a  spike.,  and  secure  still  further  the  many  defects 
of  the  hasty  reconstruction.  Our  train  labored  tediously 
along.  We  crept  slowly  and  with  careful  watch  through  a 
'  secession  village/  One  incident  alone  relieved  the  monot 
ony  of  our  journey  to  the  Junction.  As  we  approached  a 
small  settlement,  two  women  appeared  on  the  piazza  of  a 
house  standing  on  the  hill  overlooking  the  track,  and  waved 
a  welcome  with  the  American  flag.  On  the  fence  by  the 
station  were  seated,  or  hanging,  half  a  dozen  boys.  One 
of  them  wore  on  his  cap  a  small  flag.  A  passenger  called 
to  him,  '  What  have  you  got  on  your  cap  ?  '  '  The  flag? 
lie  answered  briskly.  '  Are  you  true  to  it  ?  '  The  little 
fellow  thought  he  was.  '  Take  your  cap  off  then,  and  hold 
it  up  here.'  He  did  so,  and  from  many  hands  in  the  car 
there  fell  into  the  ready  cap  a  small  shower  of  federal  coin, 
which  we  had  already  found  to  be  legal  tender  still,  in 
Maryland.  As  the  train  moved  off,  the  boys  were  gathering 
around  their  new  hero,  and  we  caught  the  remark,  '  Bj 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  39 

Jove,  see  what  Johnny  got  by  wearing  a  flag.'  Repentant 
Baltimore  seems  now  to  be  trimming  her  cap  anew.  How 
long  will  it  be  before  she  is  holding  it  out  imploringly  to  the 
Union  treasury  ? 

"  With  a  delay  at  the  Junction  to  change  from  our  short 
train  to  a  long  one  filled  with  Pennsylvania  troops,  and  with 
occasional  stops  to  relieve  the  pickets  along  the  road  with 
fresh  men,  we  reached  Washington  in  eight  hours.  Wash 
ington  was  just  reviving  under  that  Union  blast  which  had 
been  bearing  the  echo  of  the  guns  of  Sumter  all  over  the 
loyal  North.  For  six  days  the  city  had  been  stifled  by  se 
cession  rumors  ;  now  it  was  awaking  to  the  fact  that  the 
people  were  resolved  to  have  a  government,  and  their  will 
was  absolute.  Troops  were  pouring  in,  and  the  Capital  was 
safe.  On  the  previous  Sunday  panic  had  seized  the  city, 
and  rumor  had  almost  brought  Jefferson  Davis  to  the  Poto 
mac.  Now  it  was  known  that  the  Rebels  had  no  plan  of 
immediate  attack,  but  the  free  and  spontaneous  North  was 
organizing  for  immediate  defence.  Mail  communication, 
however,  was  not  yet  open.  On  Sunday,  the  28th,  the  news 
boys  were  crying  in  the  street  the  Herald  of  Sunday,  the 
21st,  as  the  i  Latest  from  New  York  ' ;  and  so  it  was,  except 
the  few  papers  which  came  by  private  hands. 

"  But  Washington  was  not  only  unprepared  for  its  defence, 
it  was  also  unprepared  for  its  defenders.  In  the  Capital 
itself  our  own  troops  had  found  the  Balaklava  experience 
of  want  within  reach  of  plenty,  and  spent  a  day  without 
food.  It  gladdens  us  to  know  that  this  cannot  be  so  again. 
Still,  much  remains  to  do  for  the  comfort  and  health  of  the 
troops.  A  sudden  army  is  a  most  unmanageable  organiza 
tion.  But  Jefferson  Davis  will  find  it  so  too. 

"At  the  Capitol  we  found,  in  the.  Senate  Chamber,  the 
Sixth,  the  Bloody  Sixth,  as  they  are  called.  A  young  offi 
cer  was  writing  a  loyal  letter  on  Senator  WigfalPs  desk.  I 
recollected  that  the  last  time  I  was  in  the  Senate,  Colonel 
Wigfall  was  talking  treason  there,  and  I  thought,  what  a 


40  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

very  honorable  body  had  succeeded  to  the  seats  of  the  Sen 
ators.  The  gallant  Seventh,  of  New  York,  quitting,  at  a 
moment's  notice,  their  homes  and  business  and  pleasure,  to 
4  defend  the  Capitol,'  were  rewarded,  after  their  severe 
march,  by  becoming  entitled  to  the  '  privilege  of  the  floor 
of  the  House.'  The  Seventh  enlisted  for  a  month  only,  and 
were  taking  their  meals  at  Brown's  and  the  National. 
Though  not  soldiers  for  the  field,  they  have  rendered  great 
service  in  expressing  the  prompt  resolve  of  New  York.  Be 
tween  them  and  the  Massachusetts  Eighth  there  exists  the 
most  cordial  good- will  and  attachment,  kindled  by  mutual 
services  on  their  march. 

"  There  seemed  to  be  a  sudden  infusion  of  life  into  all 
departments  of  the  government,  but  as  yet  great  want  of 
plan,  system,  and  order.  This  must  come,  or  we  must  suf 
fer.  The  Ordnance  Department,  whose  duty  it  is  to  provide 
arms  and  munitions  of  war,  exhibits  every  evidence  of  the 
new  life  which  its  new  head  brings  to  it.  Colonel  James 
W.  Ripley,  formerly  of  the  Springfield  Armory,  where  his 
organizing  energy  is  still  felt,  as  he  was  returning  from 
Japan,  heard,  in  the  Red  Sea,  a  few  weeks  ago,  the  first 
news  of  4  Secession.'  He  hurried  impatiently  home,  to  give 
himself  to  his  country.  *  Nothing  but  the  thirty-four  stars 
and  thirteen  stripes,'  he  says,  '  will  satisfy  me  ;  I  must  have 
the  whole  flag.''  In  this  temper  he  is  arming  the  whole 
country.  Of  this  temper  must  every  man  be  who  lifts  a 
hand  in  this  struggle. 

"  Though  we  came  among  the  first  who  brought  to  Wash 
ington  full  proof  of  the  temper  of  the  North,  there  followed 
us,  on  Sunday  and  Monday,  impatient  and  ardent  men  from 
the  West,  to  give  her  warm  impulses  in  support  of  the 
government.  Never,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  did  opin- 
ion>  or  rather  sentiment,  take  such  sudden  form.  It  has 
leaped,  full-armed,  into  life.  May  the  government  have 
wisdom  to  organize  it  promptly,  and  direct  it  wisely  and 
boldly.  What  we  now  need  is,  not  so  much  men  as  soldiers. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  41 

An  extempore  army  is  an  impossibility.  Every  State  must 
give  herself,  with  energy,  to  the  organization  of  men,  to 
their  full  equipment,  and  to  immediate  instruction  in  every 
duty  and  habit  of  the  soldier.  One  practical  suggestion 
may  be  given  here.  The  soldier  in  the  ranks  has  no  need 
of  a  revolver.  Let  us  stop  that  foolish  expense  and  waste. 
The  musket  is  the  best  weapon,  and  its  bayonet  is  always 
loaded.  The  revolver  is  dangerous  to  its  wearer  and  his 
companions.  It  cannot  be  vised  without  abandoning  the 
musket,  and  a  divided  man  is  inferior  to  one  who  has  one 
will  and  one  weapon.  This  view  comes  from  the  highest 
authority.  To  teach  men  the  use  of  the  bayonet  is  better 
than  to  give  them  a  revolver. 

"  An  observation  of  troops  on  the  march  and  in  the  bar 
racks  shows  plainly,  also,  that  the  deficiencies  of  outfit  must 
be  rapidly  supplied,  or  the  health  of  the  troops  will  fail. 
Tents,  above  all,  are  imperatively  called  for  to  release  the 
men  from  their  crowded  and  unhealthy  quarters  in  the  pub 
lic  buildings.  Vegetables,  too,  must  go  forward  to  relieve 
them  from  the  indigestible  monotony  of  raw  pork  and  hard 
bread.  In  these  directions  our  State  government  has  al 
ready  acted.  In  such  direction  there  remains  much  to  do. 
But  all  honor  to  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts.  Her 
troops  were  first  in  the  field  ;  her  troops  were  the  first  to 
fire  a  gun  ;  her  troops,  on  that  Sunday  of  panic  in  Wash 
ington,  were  a  main  reliance  and  hope ;  and  it  was  the 
vigorous  and  ardent  patriotism  of  Governor  Andrew  that 
created  this  sudden  army.  '  What  is  that  noise  ?  '  I  asked, 
last  Sunday,  of  an  officer  of  our  regular  army,  in  whose 
quarters  I  was  sitting.  *  That  ? '  said  he  ;  ;  0,  that  is  the 
Massachusetts  Sixth !  You  had  better  go  and  see  'em :  every 
one  of  'em  is  a  soldier  ! '  The  willing  patriotism  of  Massa 
chusetts  is  a  part  of  the  history  of  our  Great  Rebellion. 

"  On  Monday,  April  29,  at  noon,  with  a  military  passport 
from  Colonel  Stone,  we  left  Washington.  Twenty  thousand 
troops  were  within  the  city  limits,  and  the  Capital  was  safe. 


42  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

At  the  Junction  we  found  Colonel  Corcoran,  of  the  New 
York  Sixty-Ninth,  and  his  gallant  Irishmen.  They  worship 
the  Colonel,  and,  in  a  free  fight,  I  should  rather  meet  any 
other  man.  Annapolis,  too,  was  full  of  troops.  I  ought 
not  to  forget  Governor  Sprague's  Rhode  Island  regiment  at 
Washington.  A  model,  in  its  equipment  and  drill,  and 
showing  how  much  those  incidents  increase  the  efficiency  of 
the  men,  how  necessary  they  are  to  make  the  soldier. 

"  One  suggestion,  in  closing.  The  immediate  security  of 
Washington  is  accomplished.  Massachusetts  was  the  pio 
neer  in  that  enterprise.  The  creation  of  regiments,  on  a 
permanent  basis  for  service,  as  long  as  there  is  a  rebel  in 
arms,  is  the  next  duty  of  patriotism.  Soldiers  for  a  cam 
paign,  —  that  is  the  pressing  necessity  of  a  struggle  for  the 
whole  flag.  Let  Massachusetts  also  be  the  pioneer  in  this 
enterprise." 

He  reached  Washington  on  the  evening  of  the 
27th,  at  which  time  he  wrote  to  his  father  a  brief 
account  of  his  journey  through  "  the  enemy's  coun 
try,"  saying :  "  At  the  hotel  I  found  Colonel  Ripley. 
He  will  help  me  in  rny  object,  and,  I  think,  enters 
into  the  project  very  favorably.  I  go  with  him  to 
see  the  Secretary  of  War  this  evening." 

After  submitting  his  plan  to  the  Secretary  in  con 
versation,  he  addressed  to  him  a  written  statement 
of  the  same.  On  the  next  day,  the  following  letter 
was  received  from  the  War  Department :  — 

"WASHINGTON  CITY,  April  28,  1861. 
"  To  MESSRS.  WILDER  DWIGHT  AND  GEORGE  L.  ANDREWS  :  — 

"  The  plan  which  you  communicated  for  raising  a  regi 
ment  in  Massachusetts  for  service  during  the  war  meets  my 
approval.  Such  a  regiment  shall  be  immediately  enlisted 
in  the  service  of  the  government,  as  one  of  those  which 
are  to  be  called  for  immediately.  The  regiment  shall  be 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  43 

ordered  to  Fort  Independence,  or  some  other  station  in  Bos 
ton  Harbor,  for  purposes  of  training,  equipment,  and  drill, 
and  shall  be  kept  there  two  months,  unless  an  emergency 
compels  their  presence  elsewhere. 

"  I  am,  gentlemen,  very  respectfully, 

"  SIMON  CAMERON, 

Secretary  of  War.19 


44  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 


CHAPTER    III. 

APPOINTED  MAJOR  OF  THE  SECOND  MASSACHUSETTS  INFANTRY. — 
THE  REGIMENT  LEAVES  BOSTON.  —  LETTERS  FROM  MARTINSBURG, 
BUNKER  HILL,  AND  HARPER'S  FERRY. 

FROM  this  time  Wilder  Dwight  seemed  to  have 
but  one  interest  in  life.  To  see  the  Massachu 
setts  Second  become,  in  organization  and  in  disci 
pline,  a  perfect  regiment,  and  to  do,  in  connection 
with  it,  all  that  such  a  power  could  do  towards  sup 
pressing  the  Rebellion,  —  this  was  the  aim  which 
bounded  his  horizon. 

He  was  appointed,  by  Colonel  Gordon's  recom 
mendation,  Major  of  the  regiment,  which  position  he 
held  until  June,  1862,  when  he  was  promoted  by 
Governor  Andrew  to  be  its  Lieutenant-Colonel. 

During  what  remained  to  him  of  life  the  history  of 
the  regiment  is  his  history.  "  All  I  want,"  he  once 
wrote,  "  is  the  success  of  the  regiment  itself,  —  noth 
ing  more  or  less ;  and  there  is  room  enough  for  dis 
tinction,  for  any  one  who  does  his  share,  in  any 
regiment,  to  make  it  a  good  one." 

To  the  duties  of  his  new  position,  however  petty 
in  detail,  he  was  content  to  give  all  his  energies.  To 
no  service  assigned  him  by  his  superior  officers  was 
he  ever  found  unequal.  And  as  at  the  very  entrance 
upon  the  practice  of  the  law  he  had  the  confidence 
of  one  who  had  spent  his  life  in  courts,  so  now,  a  be 
ginner  in  military  duty,  he  was  relied  upon  by  his 
superiors  in  command. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGIIT.  45 

The  months  given  to  the  training,  equipment,  and 
drill  of  the  regiment,  at  their  pleasant  camp  on  Brook 
Farm,  West  Roxbury,  were  full  of  interest  to  him. 
On  the  8th  of  July,  1861,  the  regiment  left  "  Camp 
Andrew,"  and  entered  Boston,  to  take  its  departure 
for  the  seat  of  war.  The  day  was  one  of  intense 
heat,  to  which  circumstance  he  refers  in  the  follow 
ing  lines  written  from  New  York  the  next  morn 
ing :— 

"  TUESDAY  MORNING,  July  9. 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  suppose  you  will  be  glad  to  hear 
that  we  came  out  of  the  furnace  like  gold.  Everything  has 
gone  well.  I  feel  better  than  before  starting,  and  the  regi 
ment,  as  soon  as  it  got  on  board  ship,  found  itself  cool  and 
well.  We  are  off  this  afternoon.  Good  by.  God  bless  you." 

Surprise  has  been  often  expressed  that  he  found 
time  to  write  so  many  letters  while  he  was  in  the 
army.  This  is  explained  by  the  rapidity  with  which 
he  wrote,  and  the  fact  that  he  kept  no  other  journal 
of  events,  some  record  of  which  he  felt  would  be  in 
valuable  to  him,  should  he  survive  the  war. 

The  haste  in  which  these  letters  were  necessarily 
written,  while  it  should  be  remembered  in  judging 
of  their  literary  merit,  makes  them  none  the  less 
valuable  as  a  graphic  picture  of  the  scenes  through 
which  he  passed. 

He  again  writes  :  — 

"  HAGERSTOWN,  MARYLAND,  July  11,  1861. 

u  If  any  one  supposes  that  an  advance  under  pressure 
to  join  General  Patterson's  column  is  fun,  let  him  try  it. 
From  Boston,  as  soon  as  we  got  the  train,  all  went  well. 
At  New  York,  on  the  whole,  everything  was  warm,  but 
cheerful.  We  gave  them  a  show  in  the  Park,  and  made 


46  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

our  speeches.  But  best  of  all  was  our  prompt  and  orderly 
embarkation  at  the  wharf,  and  our  start  for  Harrisburg  and 
Hagerstown.  Luck,  however,  did  not  follow  us  beyond 
New  York.  We  spent  in  the  cars,  on  our  way  to  Hagers 
town,  nearly  thirty-six  hours,  —  more  than  twice  too  long. 
But,  per  contra,  discipline  was  maintained,  and  every  man 
found  himself  fed,  and  in  as  good  shape  as  possible.  Here 
we  are.  Our  band  filled  the  town  with  its  music  at  five 
o'clock  this  morning.  The  advance  train,  in  which  I  was, 
arrived  at  one  o'clock.  We  are  in  the  midst  of  preparation 
to  commence  our  march  upon  Martinsburg,  where  we  join 
General  Patterson.  I  do  not  think  there  will  be  any  fight 
ing  immediately, —  others  think  otherwise  ;  but  to-day's  ru 
mors  show  Johnson  falling  back  to  Winchester.  Unless  he 
does  voluntarily,  he  must  per  force.  We  ford  the  Potomac, 
and  I  am  impatient  to  feel,  with  my  horses'  hoofs,  the  sacred 
soil  of  Virginia.  I  have  been  very  well,  notwithstanding 
the  intense  heat.  Saw  William  in  New  York,  and  he  helped 
me  a  good  deal.  You  would  laugh  to  see  how  our  pretty 
things  are  getting  spoiled  with  the  service. 

"  Our  present  position  and  duty  cannot  be  regarded  other 
wise  than  as  a  high  compliment.  With  other  regiments  al 
most  on  the  spot,  we  are  called  to  the  post  most  threatened, 
and  we  are  called  from  a  distance,  too.  It  shows  that, 
somehow  or  other,  we  have  got  a  reputation.  Excuse  haste 
and  all  incoherency. 

"  I  was  sorry  not  to  see  you  more  on  the  Common,  but  it 
was  best  to  cut  short  the  parting.  Give  warm  love  to  father 
and  all  the  boys,  and  every  one  else.  God  bless  you  all." 

Some  hours  later  he  writes  :  — 

"  I  wrote  a  note  this  morning,  just  before  breakfast,  ex 
pecting  an  immediate  start  for  Martinsburg  ;  but,  owing  to 
the  necessary  delays  of  our  movements,  we  shall  not  start 
until  four  o'clock  this  afternoon.  To-night  we  camp  on  this 
side  the  Potomac.  Everything  is  as  well  with  us  as  it  can 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  47 

be.  I  think  the  organization  shows,  by  its  practical  working 
on  the  way,  that  it  is  a  success.  The  men  are  quiet,  orderly, 
and  disciplined.  Their  rations  have  held  out  well,  and  their 
health  and  spirits  are  remarkably  good.  I  see  very  clearly 
that  there  is  to  be  no  limit  of  work,  but  much  of  it  will  be 
work  that  I  can  do,  which  is  all  I  want.  As  to  fatigue,  I 
expect  to  bear  it  well.  Since  Sunday  morning  I  have  not 
had  three  successive  hours  of  sleep,  but  I  feel  well  and  vig 
orous,  notwithstanding.  We  start  from  here  very  soon,  and, 
as  the  regiment  moves  out  on  its  first  march,  wre  expect  to 
make  a  fine  appearance.  I  shall  write  as  often  as  I  can,  and 
hope  to  hear." 

Two  days  later  he  writes :  — 

"!N  CAMP,  MARTINSBURG,  Saturday,  July  13,  1861. 

"  Void  que  nous  sommes  arrives.  I  am  in  my  tent,  on  the 
high  ground,  south  of  the  town  of  Martinsburg.  Our  regi 
ment  is  a  part  of  wrhat  is  called  General  Patterson's  column, 
and  we  are  on  the  advance  post.  It  would  have  done  your 
pride  good  to  have  seen  us  form  the  regiment,  and  start  on  our 
march  from  Hagerstown.  My  own  responsible  position,  in 
rear  of  the  column,  led  me  to  watch  its  progress,  to  return 
to  give  orders  to  the  rear-guard  and  wagons,  and,  in  general, 
to  be  lively.  I  am  very  well,  and,  though  living  under  high 
pressure,  getting  my  load  along.  At  about  half  past  six  on 
Thursday  afternoon  we  reached  the  bank  of  the  Potomac, 
passing  down  from  the  high  ground  on  which  Doubleday's 
battery  stood  two  weeks  ago.  We  camped  on  the  bank, 
without  crossing  the  river.  It  was  a  long  job  getting  the 
men  into  camp,  and  getting  their  supper  into  the  men.  At 
four  the  next  (yesterday)  morning  we  were  up  striking 
tents  and  getting  breakfast.  Then  the  battalion  formed, 
and  then  came  our  first  regular  undress  parade.  At  the 
command,  the  men  prepared  to  ford  the  Potomac.  In  a  few 
moments,  the  regiment  was  without  its  pantaloons.  The 
vulgar  prejudices  of  society,  I  am  aware,  are  on  the  side  of 


48  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

these  appendages,  but  society  does  not  cross  the  Potomac  on 
foot  in  the  freshness  of  the  morning.  The  column  moved 
forward  in  regular  order.  The  band  advanced  into  the 
stream  playing  a  confident  march,  and  so  we  passed  the 
river  gayly.  Then  came  a  long  march,  —  thirteen  miles. 
We  were  told  that  the  enemy's  cavalry  were  on  the  hills  on 
the  Virginia  bank  of  the  river,  but  we  saw  nothing  of  them, 
though  the  regiment  marched  with  loaded  muskets.  The 
march  was  a  new  experience,  —  it  was  an  interesting  one. 
The  morning  was  fresh  and  cool  ;  the  horses  and  wagons 
were  our  chief  source  of  delay.  One  balky  horse  jumped 
up,  leaped  over  the  wheel-horses,  fell,  and  hooked  himself 
to  the  pole.  He  was  left  behind.  One  team  spent  a  long 
time  in  the  river.  Still,  at  last,  the  train  moved  on.  With 
frequent  halts,  we  reached  Martinsburg  at  three  in  the  after 
noon.  We  marched  with  music  playing,  and  amid  some 
attention  of  thousands  of  troops,  to  our  camping-ground. 
Then  we  pitched  our  tents,  and,  in  the  midst  of  a  violent 
thunder-storm,  mounted  our  guns,  got  supper,  and  then  I 
suppose  you  expect  me  to  say  went  to  bed.  Not  so,  how 
ever,  the  Major.  Instead  of  bed,  which  I  desired,  I  went 
about  in  the  pouring  rain  to  visit  sentinels,  see  that  the  men 
had  supper,  <fec.,  &c.  At  twelve  o'clock  I  crept  under  cover. 
At  five  this  morning,  got  up,  put  on  wet  boots,  and  went  on 
duty  again.  To-day  I  have  been  attending  drills,  <fcc.,  I 
see  clearly  that  there  is  no  rest  in  this  life.  With  care,  I 
can  keep  well,  I  think,  and  I  hope  can  do  well  for  the  men. 
But  the  care  is  a  very  great  one.  I  have  written  this  note 
in  the  midst  of  interruptions  of  every  kind,  and  I  have  no 
more  time  now.  We  are  under  orders  to  move  on  Monday 
somewhither.  We  are  in  a  beautiful  country  ;  everything 
here  is  new  tinder  the  sun,  or  rather  under  the  clouds. 
That,  in  itself,  is  spicy  and  cheering.  In  great  haste  .... 
with  much  love  to  all." 

Again  he  writes :  — 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT.  49 

"Ix  BIVOUAC  AT  BUNKER  HILL,  July  16,  1861. 

"  We  paused  last  evening,  on  our  march  toward  Winches 
ter,  and  lay  down  on  the  side  of  a  hill  in  a  pine  grove.  Late 
Sunday  evening,  at  Martinsburg,  the  order  came  to  be  in 
readiness  to  march  at  five  o'clock  the  next  morning.  No 
intimation  whither.  We  had  reveille  at  three  o'clock, 
packed  wagons,  breakfasted,  formed  the  battalion,  and  then 
came  our  marching  orders.  The  whole  command  of  Gen 
eral  Patterson  commenced  its  movement  at  five.  The  march 
was  without  incident.  We  found  our  place  in  column  at 
about  eight  o'clock,  and  moved  on  till  three,  when  we 
reached  Bunker  Hill.  There  was  firing  by  our  advanced 
guard,  who  drove  fifteen  hundred  of  the  enemy's  cavalry 
before  them.  We  came  upon  their  deserted  camp.  The 
movement  was  steady  but  slow.  From  the  high  ground, 
and  in  turnings  of  the  road,  the  sight  was  a  fine  one.  Our 
regiment  excited  universal  admiration.  It  is  already  con 
sidered  the  regiment  of  the  whole  command.  My  horse 
works  beautifully,  and  keeps  perfectly  well.  I  have  great 
comfort  in  him.  When  one  is  twelve  hours  in  saddle,  it 
makes  a  difference  what  the  saddle  is  on.  The  camp-ground 
assigned  us  was  the  one  we  now  occupy.  It  is  very  much 
exposed,  and  in  advance  of  the  main  body.  On  taking  pos 
session  of  it,  we  found  every  indication  of  recent  occupa 
tion,  and  find  that  the  Rebels  occupied  it  night  before  last. 
The  men  lay  right  down  to  rest.  I  continued  upon  duty, 
under  direction  of  the  Colonel,  till  five  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon.  Then,  a  man  who  lived  near  by  invited  us  to  tea 
with  him.  Our  wagons  were  back  in  the  interminable  train, 
and  we  had  given  up  all  hope  of  them  till  late.  The  man 
spoke  strongly  of  Union,  &c.  We  accepted  his  offer,  and 
went  down  to  his  farm-house  and  ate  our  bacon  and  eggs  in 
the  midst  of  his  pickaninnies  and  slaves.  The  poor  man 
could  not  speak  of  the  American  flag  without  choking.  He 
said  the  other  army  had  pressed  their  horses  and  food,  &c., 
and  given  them  nothing  in  return  but  receipts  of  the  South- 


50  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

ern  Confederacy,  and  i  there  ain't  any  Southern  Confeder 
acy,'  said  he.  Still  the  prevailing  tone  here  is  secession. 
We  lay  down  at  night  under  the  trees.  I  posted  a  picket- 
guard  outside  the  lines,  and,  after  attending  to  other  duties, 
was  right  glad  to  go  to  sleep. 

"  Our  men  are  toughening  to  it  slowly,  but  their  knap 
sacks  still  pull  heavily  at  them. 

"  To-day  we  have  been  resting  the  men,  and  having  skir 
mish-drill  in  the  wheat-fields.  One  of  our  companies  is  off 
on  picket  duty,  three  miles  down  the  road  towards  Winches 
ter.  We  had  a  call  this  morning  from  Major  Doubleday. 
His  battery  is  the  terror  of  the  enemy.  He  got  out  his  map, 
and  we  studied  the  localities.  He  talked  very  agreeably 
about  Sumter,  &c.  We  have  just  received  (four  p.  M., 
Tuesday)  our  orders  for  the  advance  upon  Winchester.  A 
very  good  place  is  assigned  us.  The  impression  is  that  the 
advance  forms  part  of  a  grand  concerted  movement,  and 
that  to-morrow  will  be  a  decisive  day  in  the  history  of  the 
campaign.  I  hope  for  a  big,  worthy  battle,  one  that  means 
something  and  decides  something.  And  I  hope  to  have 
strength,  courage,  and  wisdom  to  do  my  duty  in  it.  I  never 
felt  happier  or  more  earnest  than  for  the  last  few  days,  and 
I  never  realized  more  fully  the  best  significance  of  life.  1 
have  always  had  a  dream  and  theory  about  the  virtues  that 
are  called  out  by  war.  I  have  nothing  to  say  of  the  supply 
which  I  can  furnish,  but  I  am  vividly  impressed  with  the 
demand.  The  calling  needs  a  whole  man  ;  and  it  exacts 
very  much  from  him.  Self  gets  thrown  into  the  back 
ground.  It  straggles  out  of  the  column,  and  is  picked  up, 
if  at  all,  very  late,  by  the  rear-guard.  I  am  writing  this  let 
ter  upon  an  empty  case  of  cartridges,  which  were  distributed 
this  morning,  sitting  under  an  oak-tree  back  of  the  lines  by 
the  side  of  the  Colonel,  who  has  just  returned  from  a  confer 
ence  with  Colonel  Abercrombie,  and  who  is  full  of  the  duties 
of  to-morrow.  Good  by,  and  God  bless  you.  Love  to  all. 

"  If  anything  should  happen  to  me,  remember  that  I 
meant  to  do  my  duty." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  51 

"Wednesday  morning ',  1.7th. — The  battalion  is  in  march 
ing  order  since  four  o'clock.  Day,  bright  and  clear.  It  is 
half  past  six,  and  no  advance  yet." 

"  CHARLESTOWN,  VA.,  July  18,  1861. 

"  From  Bunker  Hill  to  Charlestown  may  not  seem  a  long 
way  to  a  Massachusetts  man,  but  in  Virginia  it  is  a  hard 
day's  work.  Our  regiment  slept  on  its  arms  at  Bunker 
Hill  Tuesday  night.  We  thought  the  forward  movement 
was  to  be  on  Winchester.  A  feint  was  made  that  way. 
The  enemy  had  obstructed  the  main  road.  We  held  John 
ston's  men,  expecting  attack.  By  our  sudden  flank  move 
ment  we  have  got  him.  If  McDowell  has  done  rightly  by 
Manassas,  we  will  put  Johnston  in  a  tight  place.  Yester 
day  we  were  ready  to  start  at  three,  A.  M.  Twenty  thou 
sand  men  move  slowly.  It  took  till  nine  in  the  evening 
to  get  the  regiment  into  position  at  Charlestown,  twelve 
miles  off.  We  were  in  the  reserve,  fifteen  hours  in  the 
saddle.  When  the  men  were  drawn  up,  and  had  stacked 
their  arms,  they  fell  right  down  to  sleep  as  they  stood. 
The  day  was  bitterly  hot ;  the  march  terribly  tedious, 
but  glorious.  Twenty-five  thousand  men  occupy  the  town 
where  John  Brown  was  hung.  We  are  the  first  Massachu 
setts  regiment  which  has  defiantly,  and  without  interrup 
tion,  stalked  through  Virginia.  In  the  afternoon  we  en 
tered  a  small  village  on  our  route.  The  band  played  first 
the  Star  Spangled  Banner,  then  Hail  Columbia,  then  Yan 
kee  Doodle.  Our  horses  arched  their  necks  and  moved  to 
the  music.  The  men  moved  with  fresh  life  and  spirit. 
Our  splendid  banner,  not  a  star  dimmed,  flaunted  in  the 
faces  of  the  sulky  Virginians. 

"  The  country  is  splendid ;  but,  as  the  hymn-book  says, 
*  Only  man  is  vile ! '  My  cook  came  to  me  on  the  route, 
after  vainly  endeavoring  to  forage  for  our  dinner,  and  said, 
4 1  tout  Virginny  was  a  perducing  country,  but  I  don't  see 
nothin'  growin'  fit  to  eat  nohow.'  The  negroes  sat  on  the 


52  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

fences  along  the  route,  and  wondered.  Our  march  means 
freedom  to  them.  It  means,  too,  the  restoration  of  the 
Union  line  wherever  we  move.  The  American  flag  sprouts 
in  the  furrow  of  our  ploughshare.  It  is  hard  work,  slow 
work,  new  work  ;  but  it  has  its  compensations,  this  military 
occupation  of  a  country.  •  Southern  blood  has  been  boiling 
all  day,'  said  a  woman  standing  on  the  door  of  a  farm-house 
on  our  line  of  march.  Just  at  dusk,  as  we  neared  Charles- 
town,  there  was  a  cannonading  in  front.  We  threw  out 
skirmishers  and  drew  up  the  battalion,  but  have  not  yet 
learned  the  cause  of  the  alarm.  This  is  not  a  very  coherent 
epistle.  It  exhibits  only  an  echo  of  the  tone  of  feeling 
which  animates  one  on  an  expedition  like  ours.  You  would 
have  wondered  to  see  our  jaded  men  prick  up  their  ears, 
and  stand  alive  again,  when  they  thought  a  brush  was  at 
hand.  The  Indiana  regiment  in  our  rear  yelled  like  wild 
Indians.  I  think  Johnston  will  retire  without  much  of  a 
fight.  But  here  we  know  nothing  except  the  movements  of 
our  own  brigade.  Half  of  our  force  goes  out  of  service  to 
morrow.  This  will  hamper  our  movements." 

"  HEAD-QUARTERS  SECOND  REGIMENT  M.  V.,  HARPER'S  FERRY, 
Friday  Morning,  July  19,  1861. 

"  A  soldier's  life  is  always  gay  !  Here  we  are  !  Yester 
day  morning,  just  as  I  had  finished  my  letter  to  you  from 
Charlestown,  from  our  camp,  an  order  came  from  General 
Patterson  for  our  brigade  to  prepare  itself  with  two  days' 
rations  in  haversacks,  to  march  without  baggage.  This 
made  us  lively  under  the  hot  sun.  The  Colonel  and  I  went 
and  reported  to  General  Patterson,  whose  head-quarters  were 
in  the  house  of  Senator  Hunter,  the  traitor,  who  had  fled  to 
Richmond.  There  we  saw  the  General  and  Major  Porter. 
It  was  evident  that  no  vigorous  move  was  to  be  attempted, 
and  that  this  column  awaited  the  news  from  Manassas.  We 
returned  to  camp.  I  had  just  got  to  sleep,  to  make  up  for 
the  fatigues  of  the  day  before  (our  march  from  Bunker  Hill 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  53 

to  Charlestown,  Colonel  Abercrombie  says,  was  as  hard  a 
one  as  he  ever  knew),  when  the  Colonel  came  to  my  tent 
and  said,  '  No  sleep  for  you  ;  I  've  got  orders.'      A  new 
order  had  come,  directing  our  regiment  to  get  ready  for 
detached  service.     No  indication  had  come  of  our  destina 
tion,  but  we  were  to  report  to  General  Patterson  as  soon  as 
ready.      At  three,  we   got  under  way  with  all  our  train. 
We  were  sent  to  Harper's  Ferry.     After  a  march  of  three 
hours  we  reached  Harper's  Ferry.     The  people  received  us 
with  perfect  enthusiasm,  cheering  and  shouting  after   our 
flag.     We  are  sent  here  to  hold  Harper's  Ferry.     Oar  head 
quarters   are   in   the  house  of  the   Superintendent  of  the 
Arsenal.     We  succeed  in  its  occupation  to  Johnston,  the 
rebel.     There  are  a  good  many  of  the  secession  horsemen 
home-guard,  who  are  a  terror  to  the  country,  and  whom  we 
are  to  quell.      We  shall  establish  our  pickets  in  various 
directions,  and  hold  the  place,  unless,  indeed,  we  get  orders 
to  go  elsewhere,  which  we  are  prepared  to  expect  at  any 
time.     So,  after  all  our  expectation,  there  is  no  battle  yet. 
The  rumor  is  that  Johnston  is  withdrawing  from  Winchester, 
and  does  not  mean  to  fight.     We  know  nothing  here  except 
by  rumor.     The  country  here  is  magnificent  ;   the  scenery 
glorious.     Our  camp  is  on  the  high  ground,  and  faces  the 
gorge  through  which  the  Potomac  flows.     The  service  011 
which  our  regiment  is  detached,  though  not  a  dangerous, 
is  a  very  responsible  and  honorable  one.     The  climate  here 
is  delightful,  and  I  hope  that  all  our  men  and  officers  will 
entirely  recover  from  the  fatigues  of  their  sudden  and  recent 
duty.     It  is  an  odd  life,  and  full  of  variety.     Just  now  we 
seem  to  be  about  to  see  a  little  comfort.     Our  post  here  is 
due  to  the  reputation  the  regiment  has  already  acquired  for 
discipline  and  promptness.     It  stirs  one's  blood  to  see  the 
reign  of  terror  under  which  these  people  have  been  living. 
Men  come  in  and  claim  protection.     Wives  come  and  ask 
that  their  husbands  may  be  assured  of  safety  in  returning 
to  their  homes.     The  most  villanous  system  of  oppression 


54  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

has  been  practised  here  in  Virginia.  The  house  in  which 
we  are  now  quartered  is  a  fine  house,  and  has  a  view  which 
you  would  like,  I  think." 

"  HARPER'S  FERRY,  Monday  Morning,  July  22,  1861. 

"  War  is  a  game,  but  you  must  hold  a  few  cards  to  play 
it !  Our  column,  which  marched  so  proudly  out  of  Martins- 
burg,  is  now  melting  away.  The  time  of  the  regiments 
expires,  and  they  go.  This  cripples  our  movement.  Since 
I  wrote  you,  Colonel  Gordon  has  been  in  command  here. 
The  order  under  which  he  came  stated,  '  You  will  organize 
the  department  for  a  military  depot.  Your  regiment  is 
selected  because  the  general  commanding  wishes  the  town 
"  placed,  from  the  commencement,  in  a  proper  condition  of 
military  order  and  discipline."  Once  so,  it  can  be  easily 
retained.' 

"  I  have  been  very  busy  organizing  the  thing,  under 
the  Colonel.  Just  after  I  last  wrote  you,  I  established  and 
posted  the  town  guard,  selecting  for  the  guard-house  the 
engine-house  within  the  Arsenal  enclosure,  which  was  held 
by  John  Brown,  and  which  is  one  of  the  few  buildings  left 
amid  the  general  wreck.  Then  arrests  were  to  be  made  of 
suspected  men,  pickets  and  outposts  to  be  established,  &c. 

"  We  started  a  regular  post-office,  selecting  as  postmaster 
a  sergeant  of  Captain  Savage's  company,  who  was  formerly 
postmaster  of  his  native  town. 

"  Treason  and  conspiracy  are  all  about  us We 

had  quite  a  scene  at  our  flag-raising  the  day  after  our  ar 
rival.  The  tall  flagstaff  on  the  Arsenal  grounds  had  borne 
the  secession  rag  for  weeks.  We  wished  to  put  our  banner 
there.  After  several  attempts  to  adjust  the  halliards,  which 
failed,  Sergeant  Hill,  of  Company  B,  volunteered  to  climb 
the  tree  pole  to  its  top  and  fasten  the  rope.  This  he  did, 

amid  the  cheers,  &c.,  of  the  people  and  soldiers I 

hope  to  hear  to-day  of  the  fall  of  Manassas,  and  then  all  will 
be  well I  am  very  well  and  very  happy.  To  be  well 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGIIT.  55 

is  a  great  blessing,  for  the  water  and  fatigue  combined  take 
down  a  great  many  stronger  men." 

"HARPER'S  FERRY,  July  24,  1861. 

"  The  news  from  Manassas  has  filled  us  with  gloom  and 
bitterness.  We  can  only  rejoice  that  we  were  not  misled 
into  such  a  rout  and  panic.  I  cannot  tell  whose  fault  it  is, 
or  how  the  explanation  may  alleviate  the  disgrace,  but  it 

seems  to  me  that  the  disaster  is  a  most  terrible  one 

0  that  we  had  force  and  energy  to  strike  again  immediately ! 
But  we  cannot  judge  here.  Yesterday  a  lot  of  negro  fugi 
tives  came  in.  We  are  obliged  to  stop  them,  though  it  went 
against  my  grain  to  throw  any  obstacles  in  their  way.  One 
of  them,  a  fine-looking  fellow  called  Bob,  we  took  as  a  wait 
er.  He  was  the  slave  of  Colonel  Baylor  of  the  secession 
army,  and  I  think  Colonel  Gordon  will  retain  his  services 
until  Colonel  Baylor  returns  to  his  allegiance.  A  moment 
ago  a  man  was  brought  up  under  guard,  and  Colonel  Gor 
don  ordered  him  into  the  office.  '  Where  do  you  come 
from  ?  '  asked  he.  '  From  Charlestown,'  said  the  man,  a 
rather  dark-complexioned  fellow,  with  curly  hair.  <  I  ran 
away,'  said  he,  '  last  night.'  '  Ran  away  !  from  whom  ?  ' 
'  From  my  mistress.'  c  Are  you  a  slave  ?  '  '  Yes.'  Noth 
ing  could  have  been  more  unexpected  than  this  reply.  The 
fellow  says  he  has  brothers  and  sisters  as  white  as  him 
self,  and  all  slaves.  His  father  a  white  man,  his  mother  a 
yellow  woman.  The  man's  features  and  accent  were  Euro 
pean.  0,  this  is  a  beautiful  system,  in  its  practical  details, — 
a  firm  basis  for  a  Christian  commonwealth  !  It  is  an  order 
of  things  worth  fighting  for  !  Bah  ! 

"  By  our  maintenance  of  good  order  and  discipline,  by 
our  protection  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  against  the 
undisciplined  of  our  own  army  and  against  lawless  oppres 
sion  from  the  Rebels,  and  by  the  fact  of  our  being  the  first 
regiment  to  bring  back  the  flag  to  this  town,  we  have  so  far 
won  the  affection  of  the  townspeople  that  they  propose,  this 


56  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

evening,  to  present  us  with  a  flag.  We  shall  accept  it,  and 
add  it  to  our  bundle  of  banners.  Yesterday  afternoon 
(Tuesday)  we  had  quite  a  flurry.  Orders  came  to  be  ready 
to  march  at  a  moment's  notice.  We  packed  up  speedily, 
and  were  just  ready  to  move  when  an  order  came  that  a 
telegram  was  received  from  General  Scott  telling  us  to  stay 
where  we  are.  Such  is  camp  life.  We  do  not  know  what  a 
day  will  bring  forth,  literally.  I  see  no  immediate  prospect 
of  our  getting  into  active  military  duty ;  but  one  cannot  tell 
how  the  aspect  will  change  before  night. 

"  One  thing  is  clear,  our  column  would  have  met  the  fate 
of  McDowell's,  had  it  made  an  attack  upon  Johnston  in 
position  at  Winchester.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  had 
McDowell  made  his  attack  when  we  threatened  Johnston  at 
Bunker  Hill,  perhaps  the  result  would  have  been  different. 

"  One  thing  is  certain,  there  has  been  no  concert,  no  union 
in  the  movement  of  the  two  columns.  But  what  good  is 
there  in  speculating  upon  what  might  have  been  !  I  do  hope 
that  the  government  will  wake  up  and  put  out  its  power. 
These  rebels  mean  fight.  We  must  have  an  army,  an  arma 
ment,  —  generals  and  soldiers,  if  we  mean  to  whip  them. 
....  Here 's  hoping  the  good  time  is  coming." 

"  HEAD-QUARTERS,  HARPER'S  FERRY, 

Wednesday,  July  24,  1861. 

"  If  you  knew  the  pleasure  I  have  had  to-day  in  receiving 
my  first  letter  from  you,  you  would  write — write  —  write. 
A  letter  written  on  Sunday  with  C.'s  charming  postscript. 
Its  arrival  is  the  incident  of  our  bloodless  campaign.  Yet 
our  progress  is  not  without  its  triumphs.  To-day,  for  in 
stance,  we  have  had  another  flag  presented.  The  ladies  of 
Harper's  Ferry,  this  evening,  assembled  on  the  Square,  and 
our  officers,  with  the  band  and  color-bearer,  went  out  to 
receive  the  national  color.  The  flag,  during  the  occupation 
of  the  town  by  Johnston,  had  been  sent  off  to  Frederick  City, 
in  Maryland.  It  was  brought  back  last  Saturday,  to  be 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  57 

given  to  the  first  regiment  of  Federal  troops  which  brought 
its  protection  to  the  people.  The  scene  and  the  occasion 
were  striking.  One  of  the  ladies  made  a  short  speech. 
The  Colonel  responded,  and  the  band  rang  out,  '  Long  may 
it  wave  ! ' 

"  Virginia  gives  an  American  flag  to  Massachusetts,  and 
Massachusetts  restores  the  blessings  of  that  flag  to  Virginia. 
I  cannot  help  attaching  a  good  deal  of  significance  to  the 
occasion.  I  fancy,  too,  that  there  are  Virginians  whose 
blood  will  boil  with  the  desire  to  tear  down  that  flag,  which 
we  will  certainly  carry  into  action  when  the  time  comes. 

"  Since  I  began  to  write  news  has  come  that  General 

Banks  has  arrived  to  take  command  of  this  division 

We  hear  from  Winchester  that  there  is  great  mourning  and 
no  joy  over  the  battle  at  Manassas.  Their  dead  are  coming 
home  to  them  in  great  numbers.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  it 
will  turn  out  that,  if  that  senseless  panic  had  not  overtaken 
our  troops,  a  half-hour  more  would  have  given  them  a 
decided  success.  These  speculations  and  discussions  fill 
our  minds  here,  for  want  of  something  more  practical  and 
direct." 

"  HARPER'S  FERRY,  July  26,  1861. 

"  We  are  here  waiting  on  Providence,  and  holding  on 
to  this  corner  of  Virginia  by  the  skin  of  our  teeth.  I 
am  not  uneasy,  for  I  do  not  care  whether  it  comes  or  not ; 
but  why  Beauregard  with  his  large  force  should  not  kick 
our  broken  column  into  Maryland  I  do  not  see.  This  is 
not  a  cheerful  view,  but  it  is  reasonable  at  least.  You 
conclude,  do  you  not  ?  that  the  South  has  still  got  the  start 
of  us  in  preparation  and  in  energy.  Hope  now  hangs  on 
McClellan,  who  has  a  prestige  that  will  enable  him  to  revive 
the  spirit  that  belongs  to  our  army.  Manassas  shows  three 
things  :  First,  our  infantry,  even  in  its  present  loosely  or 
ganized  condition,  is  better  than  theirs  ;  our  foot-soldiers 
will  face  and  drive  theirs.  Second,  our  artillery  outweighs 


58  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

theirs ;  and  batteries  are  to  be  silenced,  not  stormed. 
Third,  cavalry  gives  them  great  advantage.  We  must  have 
more  cavalry.  In  fact,  we  must  create  and  organize  a  well- 
appointed  army  and  armament :  our  '  rash  levied  numbers ' 
are  mere  numbers,  not  forces. 

"  I  seem  to  myself,  here  on  the  spot,  to  realize  afresh  the 
immensity  of  our  task.  I  pity  the  statesman  who  is  to  recre 
ate  liberty  and  order  upon  the  ashes  of  this  civil  war.  You 
cannot  form  any  idea  of  the  real  significance  of  civil  war, 
without  being  in  the  midst  of  its  experience,  as  we  have 
been.  I  do  hope  that  the  Union  will  have  power  to  shorten 
it,  and  I  regard  the  disaster  of  last  Sunday  chiefly  impor 
tant  because  it  checks  the  reaction  which  was  restoring  men 
in  these  Border  States  to  their  courage  and  allegiance. 
Panic  and  terrorism  are  doing  their  worst  here,  and  they 
are  terrible  agencies  in  such  times  as  these." 

"HEAD-QUARTERS,  HARPER'S  FERRY,  Sunday,  July  28,  1861. 

"  There  is  so  much  of  drag  and  so  little  of  incident  in  my 
present  life  that  a  letter  seems  hardly  worth  while.  The 
sunlight,  as  it  breaks  the  fog  this  Sunday  morning,  discloses 
some  of  our  batteries  on  the  hills  commanding  our  somewhat 
defenceless  position.  On  Friday  General  Banks  ordered  all 
the  wagons  to  be  sent  across  the  river,  and  all  stores  of 
every  kind  to  be  removed  from  our  temporary  storehouses. 
We  have  been  in  bivouac  ever  since,  sleeping  on  hay,  and 
indulging  in  every  variety  of  soldierly  discomfort.  General 
Banks  is  unwilling  to  signalize  his  first  military  service  by 
ordering  a  retreat ;  yet,  unless  we  are  promptly  reinforced, 
there  is  no  other  way.  I  feel  very  sorry  to  desert  the  Union- 
loving  men  of  this  country.  Our  army  never  should  retreat, 
because  no  sooner  do  loyal  men  under  its  protection  avow 
themselves,  than  they  are  marked  for  the  first  prey  by 
the  rebels  which  our  retreat  allows.  0  for  a  strong  will 
and  a  large  energy  and  patience,  till  every  preparation  is 
made !  Then  we  can  walk  to  the  Gulf  and  wipe  out  these 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  59 

villains.  Yesterday  we  had  scouting-parties  out,  and  as  our 
spies  came  in  at  night,  they  reported  the  enemy's  pickets 
near  our  lines,  and  a  movement  of  a  large  body  making 
in  our  direction.  So  at  eleven  o'clock  I  took  through 
the  drowsy  camp,  rousing  sleeping  piles  of  humanity  and 
blankets,  an  order  for  their  action,  in  case  of  alarm  during 
the  night.  No  such  alarm  came.  Yesterday  the  Massachu 
setts  Twelfth,  Colonel  Webster,  arrived  on  the  other  side  of 
the  river,  and  is  now  in  camp  there ;  so  we  are  stronger  by 
one  regiment.  I  do  not  know  how  long  we  shall  stay  here, 
but  suppose  that  either  our  wagons  will  come  back  or  we 
shall  join  them  soon.  Indeed,  a  mere  nominal  holding  of 
Harper's  Ferry  like  the  present  one  does  not  seem  to  indi 
cate  great  strength.  I  am  right  in  my  conjecture.  At  this 
moment  an  order  comes  in  from  the  commanding  general 
directing  the  passage  of  the  troops  across  the  river  to-day, 
and  indicating  the  order  of  march.  The  order  concluded, 
however,  with  the  direction  :  '  The  Second  Massachusetts 
Regiment  will  remain  as  a  garrison  to  this  place.  The 
colonel  of  this  regiment  will  so  establish  his  pickets  as  to 
give  him  timely  warning  of  the  enemy's  approach.  For 
this  object,  twenty  men  of  the  cavalry  and  one  non-commis 
sioned  officer  will  be  left  with  the  garrison  of  the  place.'  So 
we  are  to  have  the  honor  to  be  the  first  to  occupy  and  the 
last  to  quit  the  sacred  soil  of  Harper's  Ferry.  Well,  we 
marched  into  Virginia  full  of  hope  and  fight  and  purpose. 
We  dinned  the  Star  Spangled  Banner  into  the  unwilling 
ears  of  the  startled  villagers.  We  had  doleful  marches  but 
delightful  measures.  '  Grim-visaged  war '  had  her  front 
smoothed  of  its  wrinkles,  to  be  sure,  but  we  thought  to 
meet  the  front  of  fearful  adversaries. 

"  Now,  however,  instead  of  all  this  ecstasy  of  advance, 
we  are  employed  in  the  anxious  endeavor  to  retreat  as  little 
as  possible.  No  matter,  the  fulness  of  time  will  bring  only 
one  result,  and  we  can  wait  for  it.  Military  glory,  however, 
will  not  turn  out  to  be  so  cheap  an  article  as  some  of  our 


60  LIFE  AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

holiday  soldiers  thought  it.     The  price  of  it  is  rising  every 

day Doubleday's  battery  just  went  by  with  the  long 

rifled  cannon  which  throws  a  ball  five  miles,  and  now  the 
air  is  full  of  the  dust  and  music  of  the  New  York  Twelfth, 
which  is  also  on  the  march.  They  will  soon  leave  us  alone 
in  our  glory.  We  shall  occupy  the  lower  part  of  the  town, 
near  the  ford,  and  shall  only  hold  the  place  till  some 
stronger  force  comes  to  claim  it.  This  duty  will  exact  a 
lively  vigilance,  but  it  is  free  from  danger,  I  think,  and  my 
own  strong  belief  is,  that,  with  our  cannon  frowning  from 
the  hills,  the  Rebels  will  not  think  it  worth  while  to  claim 
the  town,  especially  as  it  is  utterly  worthless  for  any  military 
purpose. 

"  I  think  of  you  all  enjoying  a  quiet  Sunday  morning  at 
home,  and  should  like  to  join  you  for  a  time ;  but  I  am 
getting,  in  the  presence  of  these  outrages,  to  desire  only  the 
results  of  war.  Cavalry  and  artillery,  —  we  must  have 
these  before  we  can  be  completely  effective." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  61 


CHAPTER    IY. 

LETTERS  FROM  MARYLAND   HEIGHTS. 

"MARYLAND  HEIGHTS,  ADVANCED  POST,  July  30,  1861, 
Tuesday  Afternoon,  in  Camp. 

"  TTTITH  your  passion  for  fine  prospects  and  high  hills, 
\  \  you  would  like  to  climb  with  me  from  the  dripping 
ford  of  the  Potomac  up  the  abrupt  steep  that  overhangs  it 
to  the  thick  wooded  side  of  the  Heights  on  the  Maryland 
shore.  You  might  enjoy  the  tangled  pathway  through  the 
woods  ;  you  would  certainly  find  a  thirsty  pleasure  at  the 
spring  of  pure  water  which  pulses  from  the  heart  of  the 
mountain  ;  a,nd  when  you  came  out  of  the  silent  wood-path 
upon  a  broad  table-flat,  and  found  it  white  with  tents  and 
alive  with  armed  men  and  vocal  with  martial  music,  you 
would  wonder,  as  King  George  before  the  dumpling,  how 
the  d — 1  we  got  there.  This  is  precisely  what  I  am  going 
to  tell  you.  Giving  you  first,  however,  a  moment  to  cast 
your  delighted  eyes  up  the  Potomac  Valley  to  the  blue  hills 
beyond,  and  across  Harper's  Ferry  town  to  the  gorge  of  the 
Shenandoah,  which  gives  the  name  to  the  lazy  military  de 
partment  which  waits  a  new  life  from  the  energy  of  General 
Banks.  And,  interrupting  you  again,  to  say  that  I  have  all 
your  letters  safe,  and  have  every  pleasure  in  reading  them 
and  in  rereading  them.  Now  for  the  story.  In  this  melt 
ing  heat  of  the  sultriest  afternoon  my  memory  is  relaxed, 
and  I  cannot  recollect  when  I  wrote.  On  Sunday,  however, 
the  army  moved  across  the  Potomac  and  occupied  Mary 
land  Heights  below  Sandy  Hook,  leaving  the  Massachusetts 
Second  in  full  possession  of  Harper's  Ferry.  The  Colonel 
leaving  the  upper  part  of  the  town  where  we  had  been,  I 


62 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 


spent  Sunday  evening  in  posting  our  pickets  and  outposts, 
and  in  taking  what  military  precautions  were  possible 
against  a  night  surprise  and  attack.  Of  course  we  spent  a 
wakeful  night,  though  I  could  not  think  there  was  any 
chance  of  attack.  The  next  morning  I  was  off  again  on  the 
road  towards  Charlestown  to  fix  a  point  for  a  strong  picket, 
and  generally  to  cruise  about  the  country.  Colonel  An 
drews  and  myself  spent  three  hours  in  sunny  riding  (you 
don't  quite  appreciate  the  meaning  of  the  sunny  South). 
When  we  got  back  we  found  that  Colonel  Gordon  had  got 
an  order  changing  the  disposition  of  our  forces  thus  :  Colo 
nel  Andrews  to  remain  in  Harper's  Ferry  with  three  com 
panies  (Captains  Gary's,  Abbott's,  and  Cogswell's),  a  battery 
of  three  guns  to  be  mounted  on  the  table-land  above  the 
ford  on  the  Maryland  shore,  and  the  rest  of  the  regiment  to 
cross  and  encamp  near  it,  to  support  the  battery  and  pro 
tect  the  ford.  This  sounds  plain  and  easy,  but  it  gave  us  a 
lively  afternoon.  I  will  tell  you  the  story  by  and  by.  Now 
the  call  is  sounding  for  dress-parade.  The  heat  is  ridicu 
lous.  I  have  philosophized  myself,  however,  into  great  good 
spirits,  and  I  do  not  wilt.  With  humility  I  hope  to  get 
through.  Now  for  parade 

"  If  you  had  happened  in  on  our  parade  you  would  have 
had  the  pleasure  to  see  me  preside.  We  do  not  look  as 
gay  as  we  did  at  Camp  Andrew,  but  we  also  do  not  have 
so  many  friends  to  see  us.  I  have  got  my  tent  finely 
pitched,  with  a  rich  carpet  of  oak-leaves,  and  have  extem 
porized  a  writing-desk.  Tattoo  is  just  beating,  and  I  will  go 
on  with  my  story. 

"  After  the  order  to  divide  our  forces  came,  the  regiment 
was  soon  paddling  and  splashing  through  the  water.  We 
left  Colonel  Andrews  making  everything  secure.  The  regi 
ment  mounted  the  steep  ascent  on  this  side,  and  at  last 
made  the  plateau.  But  our  wagons,  which  had  to  take  a 
longer  and  more  circuitous  ascent,  were  not  so  lucky  ;  and 
tentless,  almost  supperless,  the  men  bivouacked  for  the 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGIIT.  63 

night.  The  officers  found  a  friendly  supper  in  the  house  of 
a  man  on  whose  farm  we  are,  —  the  only  inhabitant  of  the 
neighborhood,  if  that  can  be  called  a  neighborhood  where 
neighbors  there  are  none.  This  farmer*  knew  John  Brown  ; 
and,  indeed.  John  Brown's  school-house,  where  he  hid  his 
arms,  is  down  just  below  our  camp,  in  the  woods.  I  may 
exaggerate  the  effect  of  John  Brown,  but  certain  it  is  that 
the  whole  military  organization  in  Virginia  dates  from  his 
raid.  And  the  other  day  a  woman  said,  6  We  have  not 
dared  to  command  our  slaves  since  John  Brown  came.* 
The  man's  name  is  a  terror  and  a  bitterness  to  them.  To 
day  we  have  been  getting  our  wagons  up,  pitching  tents, 
organizing  an  encampment.  In  Colonel  Andrews's  absence 
this  falls  a  good  deal  on  me.  New  work  is  hard  work,  but 
the  aptitude,  I  suppose,  will  come.  I  suppose  when  an  old 
dog  is  going  to  learn  new  tricks  he  does  not  do  it  in  dog- 
days.  I  certainly  should  like  to  take  my  lessons  in  cooler 
weather.  I  have  been  riding  about  the  hills  a  good  deal, 
and  have  been  to  head-quarters  to  see  General  Banks.  Old 
Mr.  Weller  generalized  quite  broadly  when  he  said,  '  Sam 
my,  a  man  as  can  form  a  ackerate  judgment  of  a  horse  can 
form  a  ackerate  judgment  of  anything.'  Perhaps  we  gen 
eralize  a  little  rapidly  in  making  Governor  Banks  the  com 
mander  of  a  division  and  a  department.  We  shall  see. 
Just  now  military  civilians  must  look  sharp  lest  they  fall. 
I  am  making  a  long  story  of  very  little,  but  if  I  could  have 
brought  you  up  to  our  sunset  view,  you  would  have  easily 
understood  the  new  pleasure  of  our  fine  camp  life  after  the 
dull  work  of  garrisoning  Harper's  Ferry.  It  does  no  good 
to  write  of  scenery,  you  want  to  hear  of  achievement.  We 
must  wait  for  that.  Think  of  us,  now  in  perfect  safety, 
getting  ready  for  better  things,  I  hope.  The  events  of  the 
past  week  show  that  every  man  who  is  fit  for  it  must 
do  his  part  to  fight  now." 

*  See  Appendix  VIII. 


64  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

"  MARYLAND  HEIGHTS,  DEP'T  OP  THE  SHEXANDOAH, 
July  31,  1861,  in  Camp. 

"  Three  letters  ? !  Yes,  one  from  you,  one  from  father,  one 
from  C.  Blake,  —  all  at  once.  The  sun  shines  less  fiercely, 
and  the  glaring  afternoon  has  lost  its  power,  or  is  forgotten. 
I  write  in  the  memory  of  yesterday.  This  morning  the 
rattle  of  the  rain-drops  on  my  tent  roused  me  before  the 
regular  reveille*  of  the  drum,  and  I  am  writing  now,  after 
breakfast,  to  the  same  cool  music.  If  you  really  like  to 
listen  to  the  monotony  of  our  eventless  experience,  I  cannot 
do  less  than  to  write  it  for  you.  Yesterday  was  a  busy  day. 
Battalion  drill  after  breakfast,  and  then  a  ride  with  Colonel 
Gordon  over  the  mountain  to  head-quarters.  We  climbed, 
by  a  rough  path  cut  two  months  ago  by  the  Rebels,  to  the 
very  top  of  the  mountain.  There  we  found  a  picket  from 
the  Twelfth  Massachusetts  Regiment  (Colonel  Webster), 
and  upon  the  lookout  floated  the  American  flag.  After  a 
wide  survey  and  a  view  most  glorious,  we  descended  the 
other  side  of  the  mountain  to  head-quarters.  There,  busi 
ness  and  a  short  chat  with  Major  Doubleday,  whose  battery 
is  there  in  position.  By  the  new  organization  of  brigades, 
Doubleday  is  in  ours.  He  is  of  Fort  Sumter  fame,  as  you 
know,  and  is  a  fine  fellow  with  a  grand  battery. 

"  I  wrote  thus  far  yesterday  evening,  and  was  expect 
ing  a  quiet  rainy  day,  when  out  blazed  the  sun  and  kin 
dled  our  work  again.  Rations  were  to  be  issued,  &c., 
then,  at  noon,  came  the  sudden  order  :  '  Pack  wagons  with 
everything,  and  prepare  to  bivouac  for  several  days.'  It 
seems  head-quarters  got  frightened  about  our  wagons.  The 
road  is  so  exposed  that,  in  case  of  attack,  they  would  certainly 
be  lost.  Our  pretty  encampment  had  to  yield,  therefore,  to 
the  necessities  of  war.  It  made  a  long  afternoon,  and  when 
the  tents  were  struck,  the  wagons  loaded,  and  the  balking 
and  unwilling  teams  made  to  draw,  we  were  enjoying  an 
other  sunset.  The  men  were  sent  into  the  woods  to  cut 
brush  for  huts,  and  there  sprang  up  a  camp  of  green  leaves, 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OP   WILDER   DWIGHT.  65 

as  if  by  magic.  I  am  now  writing  under  a  bower  of  chest 
nut  leaves,  and  am  quite  fascinated  by  my  new  quarters. 
The  inconvenience  of  sending  off  all  your  luggage,  most  of 
your  bedding  and  camp  furniture,  is  not  a  slight  one.  In 
the  absence  of  other  hardships  and  perils,  one  con  make  a 
hardship  of  that.  Last  night  we  had  an  animated  time. 
Just  after  taps  one  of  our  pickets  fired,  and  it  turned  out 
that  a  man  was  prowling  through  the  bushes.  Soon-  after 
an  excited  Indiana  picket  fired  on  our  men  in  a  small  picket 
down  the  hill,  and  that  kicked  up  a  small  bobbery.  But 
the  morning  makes  all  quiet  again.  The  mists  are  lifting 
from  the  river  and  hillsides,  and  the  day  is  already  started 
on  its  uncertain  course  again.  The  kitchen  fires  are  smok 
ing,  the  axes  are  ringing  in  the  wood.  '  Jim  along  Josey,' 
or  sick-call,  has  just  sounded.  The  thoughts  turn  fondly  on 
breakfast.  Good  by.  Love  to  all." 

"MARYLAND  HEIGHTS,  Augusts,  1861,  in  Bivouac. 

"  Our  new  leafy  camp  presents  an  odd  appearance.  Two 
or  three  ingenious  men  belonging  to  the  band  have  fitted  me 
up  a  bedstead  of  branches  and  boughs,  and  have  thatched 
my  tent  with  leaves,  so  that  the  breeze  rustles  cool  through 
it  as  I  write.  But  we  have  few  incidents.  The  bugler  is 
teaching  the  skirmish  calls,  which  makes  a  confused  variety 
of  very  bad  music  ;  but  except  that,  we  are  in  the  sultry  still 
ness  of  high  noon 

"  I  think  we  are  doomed  to  a  life  of  warm  inaction  for 
many  weeks,  while  the  awakened  North  will,  I  trust,  give 
itself  cordially  to  the  task  of  organization.  We  must  have 
an  immense  army.  We  must  feed  it,  teach  it,  equip  it,  and 
all  this  must  be  done  without  delay.  We  must  pay  it 
promptly  too.  Our  men  all  suffer  now  for  want  of  the  few 
comforts  their  pay  would  bring.  Again,  we  must  feed  them 
well,  honestly,  not  with  bad  meat  or  mouldy  bread.  I  be 
lieve  a  little  attention  to  these  two  matters  will  shorten  the 
war  six  months.  We  demand  a  great  deal  of  the  men,  we 

5 


66  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

must  give  them  all  they  are  entitled  to,  and  we  must  do  this 
a  great  deal  better  than  it  has  been  done.  I  could  write 
much  on  this  score,  but  I  am  not  inspector-general,  my 
report  will  not  go  to  head-quarters,  so  I  will  try  to  give  you 
something  more  lively.  Yet  these  are  the  pressing  thoughts 
of  one  in  the  system  who  feels  its  pressure.  Men  willing 
and  devoted  you  can  have  ;  but  one  central,  organizing  will 
you  cannot  have,  I  fear.  Never  mind,  we  have  got  to 
accomplish  the  result  sooner  or  later.  Only  I  think  I  can 
see  most  clearly  how  it  ought  to  be  done.  Health  is  a  con 
dition  of  courage,  and  without  it  you  cannot  have  an  army 
Yet  there  are  colonels,  within  three  miles  of  us,  who  have 
not  had  their  men  in  bathing  within  a  month,  though  the 
rivers  flow  close  by.  Discipline  is  another  condition  of  con 
certed  and  organized  movement ;  yet,  in  several  regiments, 
obedience  is  the  exception,  and  orders  take  the  shape  of  dif 
fident  requests.  This  has  been  unavoidable  in  the  three 
months'  militia.  It  must  be  corrected  in  the  three  years' 
army  that  is  to  fight  the  war.  Here  I  am  preaching 
away  on  the  same  text.  I  will  stop  and  try  again  to 
morrow. 

"  Sunday  has  come,  and  brought  with  it  the  usual  inspec 
tion  of  the  regiment.  Under  the  glaring  sun,  it  was  a 
severer  work  than  common.  The  Colonel  was  bent  upon 
having  it  thoroughly  done,  however,  and  so  we  made  a  long 
story  of  it.  On  our  outpost,  special  duty,  the  regiment 
must  be  kept  efficiently  ready  for  sudden  emergencies  ;  and 
all  matters  which  at  Camp  Andrew  might  have  seemed 
merely  formal,  here  assume  practical  and  obvious  impor 
tance.  The  hard  work,  hot  weather,  and  soldier's  fare 
begin  to  tell  upon  the  men,  and  they  are  not  as  well  satis 
fied  as  they  were.  They  see  the  undertaking  in  a  new  form, 
and  they  are  in  the  worst  stages  of  homesickness  too.  The 
contagious  disorderliness  of  other  regiments,  with  lower 
standards  of  discipline  and  drill,  also  has  its  bad  effect  on 
them.  Again,  the  inaction  is  depressing  to  the  men,  and 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  67 

they  long  for  an  occasion  to  fight.  Still  further,  the  want 
of  vigorous  health  is  a  predisposing  cause  of  discontent. 
The  result  is,  that  the  regiment  seems  to  lack  willingness, 
obedience,  enthusiasm,  and  vigor.  It  wants  what  is  called 
tone  morale.  How  to  get  it  ?  There  is  the  problem.  Colo 
nel  Andrews  has  been  over  to  see  me  to-day,  and  we  have 
been  talking  regiment  for  a  couple  of  hours.  Yexing  our 
minds  with  problems,  and  inquiring  eagerly  for  solutions. 
I  do  not  mean  to  intimate  that  we  are  not  better  off  than 
others.  I  trust  we  are,  much.  In  all  military  and  mate 
rial  advantages,  we  certainly  have  got  the  start  of  them. 
And  in  these  respects  we  are  making  every  effort  to  hold 
our  own.  But  there  are  and  will  be  new  problems  before 
us  at  every  step.  Several  of  our  officers  are  sick  or  disabled, 
and  we  are  working  with  a  short  allowance.  This  adds  to 
the  bother.  There  you  have  the  lees  of  a  conversation  with 
the  Lieutenant-Colonel,  which  I  have  just  finished.  It  indi 
cates  a  few  of  the  perplexities  that  belong  to  my  position, 
but  you  need  not  let  them  discourage  you.  Nor  do  I  allow 
them  to  halt  me  on  my  way.  The  march  is  to  be  kept  up, 
and  the  obstacles  are  to  be  overcome  or  removed.  Still,  let 
no  one  think  that  because  we  are  not  fighting  battles,  there 
fore  we  are  not  serving  our  country.  With  all  diffidence, 
and  awaiting  the  correction  of  experience,  I  think  we  are 
now  doing  our  hardest  work.  I  should  not  write  so  much 
on  this  subject  if  it  were  not  filling  my  mind  completely. 
The  same  languor,  undoubtedly,  is  creeping  over  the  army 
everywhere.  The  only  remedy  for  the  trouble  is  to  bring 
the  men  to  their  duty  with  a  strong  hand.  The  romance  is 
gone.  The  voluntariness  has  died  out  in  the  volunteer.  He 
finds  himself  devoted  to  regular  service.  A  regular  ho  must 
be  made,  and  the  rules  and  articles  of  war,  in  all  their  arbi 
trary  severity,  will  not  sit  lightly  upon  him.  So  much  for 
my  Sunday  sermon.  I  got  your  pleasant  note  of  Thursday 
yesterday  afternoon.  I  hope  the  boys  will  enjoy  the  Adiron- 
dacks.  I  am  having  my  camp-life,  this  summer,  on  other 


68  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

terms.  Everything  goes  well  with  me.  I  never  was  happier 
in  my  life." 

"MONDAY  MORNING,  August  5,  5  A.  M, 

"  I  am  just  going  to  battalion  drill.  All  is  well,  and  the 
sun  is  not  yet  over  the  mountain,  though  we  see  its  glow  on 
the  clouds.  Good  by." 

"DEPARTMENT  SHENANDOAH,  MARYLAND  HEIGHTS, 
August  8,  1861. 

"  I  am  in  the  midst  of  pay  rolls  and  pay  accounts,  trying 
to  get  the  regiment  paid.  Two  days  ago  I  went  to  Wash 
ington,  made  a  flying  visit  to  the  Department,  and,  I  think, 
got  our  pay  business  in  shape.  Spent  several  hours  with 
William  at  his  camp,  found  everything  in  good  order  there. 
I  should  think  he  would  make  a  capital  colonel.  Wish  I  felt 
sure  of  making  as  good  a  major.  Find  no  end  of  bother  in 
this  whole  business.  Keep  up  good  courage,  and,  I  believe, 
good  nature.  Am  driven  to  death,  as  one  might  say,  and 
yet  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  was  only  driven  to  a  livelier  life. 
Can't  help  feeling  very  thankful  for  health  and  strength, 
which  I  pray  for.  The  hill  is  steep,  the  way  is  long  ;  I 
must  be  climbing :  would  much  rather  write  to  you,  — 

shall  get  leisure  soon Those  men  who  sit  at  home 

indulging  their  spleen  had  better  come  out  here  and  work  it 
off.  Let  us  shorten  this  war,  or  it  will  shorten  us.  Wash 
ington  is  in  the  dumps.  All  ivill  yet  be  well.  Your  letter, 
yesterday,  was  a  god-send." 

"  DEPARTMENT  SHENANDOAH,  MARYLAND  HEIGHTS, 
August  10,  1861. 

"  '  How  pleasant  of  Saturday  night,  when  you  've  tried  all 
the  week  to  be  good,'  &c.  Pleasant,  indeed,  of  a  Saturday 
night  to  note  the  gathering  clouds,  and  to  look  up  through 
the  withered  and  twinkling  thatch  of  your  rude  boughs,  and 
to  think  of  the  4  drop  too  much '  you  will  be  taking  all 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D  WIGHT.  69 

night.  The  muttering  thunder  will  be  the  '  sound  of  rev 
elry,'  and  the  pattering  rain  will  soon  be  falling.  Yet  it 
is  pleasant  of  Saturday  night  to  have  tho  retrospect  of  busiest 
occupation,  —  the  prospect  of  a  quiet  Sunday.  There  is  the 
uncertainty,  too,  which  spices  every  joy.  Let  me  just  sched- 
iile  my  day  for  you,  and  you  will  see  that  life  is  not  exactly 
a  dream,  and  if  a  shadow,  a  most  substantial  one.  Half 
past  four,  A.  M.  The  Major  wakes  and  wonders  where  c  that 
first  call  is.'  Quarter  before  five,  A.  M.,  he  is  getting  up 
to  the  intrusive  melody  of  that  sleepless  reveille.  Five, 
A.  M.,  he  is  walking  about  camp  to  see  that  '  things  is 
workin'.'  Half  past  five,  A.  M.,  he  is  strapping  on  his 
sword,  and,  with  the  bugler,  going  out  on  to  the  broad 
field  with  six  companies  to  skirmish-drill.  Soon  the  men 
are  scattered  over  the  plain,  rallying,  deploying,  advancing, 
retreating,  firing,  ceasing  to  fire,  lying  down,  getting  up, 
swarming  in  masses,  and  scattering  again  singly,  double- 
quicking  upon  their  reserves,  forming  squares  to  resist  im 
aginary  cavalry,  forming  column  again,  &c.,  &c.  This,  in 
the  cool  of  the  morning,  in  obedience  to  the  bugle-note 
which  obeys  him.  Then,  again,  at  a  quarter  to  seven,  the 
companies  return.  The  Major  goes  to  the  kitchens  and 
sees  what  each  company  is  going  to  have  for  breakfast. 
Then,  at  eight  o'clock,  comes  first  mail.  The  Major  franks 
the  soldier's  letters,  attends  to  requisitions,  <fec.,  looks  up 
the  Tactics.  At  half  past  nine  he  goes  out  to  battalion  drill. 
The  sun  blazes,  the  regiment  manoeuvres.  It  breaks  into 
column  ;  it  forms  into  line  ;  it  closes  into  a  square  ;  it  again 
shapes  itself  into  column  and  line  ;  and  the  sunshine  glows 
with  satisfaction  over  all.  The  impatient  Colonel  urges  on 
the  movements.  The  Major  flies  round  and  means  well. 
Two  hours  have  passed  and  he  returns  ;  0,  how  hot !  His 
horse  is  ordered,  and,  at  twelve,  he  is  in  the  saddle,  on  his 
way  to  head-quarters.  There  is  always  business  enough  to 
make  him  late  to  dinner,  at  two,  P.  M.  At  three  the  mail 
comes,  and  brings  the  refreshment  of  a  letter  or  the  disap- 


70  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

pointment  of  none.  Perhaps  the  saddle  again  in  the  after 
noon  ;  perhaps  other  work  ;  perhaps  a  nap.  At  half  past 
five,  drill  again  ;  at  half  past  six,  parade.  In  the  evening, 
tactics,  picket  posting,  discussion,  reflection,  schemes,  bick 
erings,  <fcc.,  &c.  And  bed  soon  after  taps  at  half  past  nine. 
Bed  in  the  open  field.  Rest  conditional  and  precarious,  — 
broken  by  the  frown  of  the  sky,  or  by  the  false  alarms  of 
trepid  sentinels.  But  rest  which,  scorning  all  these  acci 
dental  obstacles,  these  chances  and  mischances,  comes  will 
ingly  and  wooingly  to  eyelids  that  have  gazed  their  fill  of 
wakeful  activity.  So,  da  capo,  one  day  treads  closely  on 
another,  and  variety  is  always  at  hand.  Here  I  give  you 
the  prose  of  it,  —  the  treadmill  without  the  song.  But  there 
is  poetry  in  it,  too.  There  is  a  sentiment  which  gives  the 
impulse  to  this  duty,  and  which  rewards  and  Tialos  the  effort. 
I  have  been  to  Washington,  and  returned  with  a  sort  of 
desperate,  teeth-set  determination  to  do  all  that  I  can  within 
the  sphere  of  my  duty.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  country 
wants  active,  busy,  self-forgetting  endeavor.  More  than 
that,  it  needs  guidance  from  a  wisdom  that  has  not  guided 
it  yet.  It  makes  me  chafe  with  indignation  to  see  the  help 
lessness  of  the  administration.  Misconceiving  the  emer 
gency,  mismeasuring  their  foe  ;  dallying  with  a  rabble  of 
volunteers  when  they  should  be  disciplining  soldiers.  Think 
ing,  forsooth,  that  bold  conspirators,  with  the  halter  at  the 
end  of  one  path  and  wealth  and  honors  looming  in  the  other 
vista,  do  not  mean  to  fight  for  their  very  existence.  Where 
is  the  evidence,  either  of  civil  or  military  administrative 
faculty,  in  anything  they  (the  administration)  have  done  ? 
Where  is  the  will  ?  Who  is  the  leader  ?  McClellan,  they 
hope.  It  is  a  hope  so  young  and  tender,  yet  so  fair  in  its 
promise,  that  I  will  indulge  it ;  yet  it  is  only  a  hope.  Are 
we  to  drift  into  another  Bull  Run  ?  If  not,  we  must  all 
wake  up.  Those  unappreciative  politicians  had  not  the  tact 
or  energy  to  utilize  the  first  noble  impulse  of  the  country 
when  it  leapt  to  arms.  Now  they  will  find  the  drooping 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OP    WILDER   DWIGHT.  71 

influence  of  mismanagement  and  defeat  a  fearful  obstacle, 
as  I  forebode.  But  out  of  this  nettle  I  pluck  one  flower, 
namely,  that  I  can  be  of  service  ;  and  it  cheers  me  to  hope 
that,  by  active  and  constant  endeavor,  I  may,  perhaps,  do 
my  small  mite  towards  organization  and  efficiency.  I  wish  I 
could  do  more.  To  will  is  present  with  me.  At  all  events, 
let  men  awake  to  it.  The  opportunity  to  save  the  country 
will  not  wait  much  longer.  A  leader,  however,  we  must 

have But  too  much  of  this.     The  darker  the  sky, 

the  warmer  my  purpose. 

"  But  I  cannot  help  writing  a  little  of  the  atmosphere 
that  is  about  us.  They  say  that  when  some  prating  talker 
in  Washington  told  McClellan,  '  You  have  undertaken  a 
fearful  task,'  he  quietly  replied,  '  I  know  it,  and  I  can  do 
it?  Whether  vero  or  bentrovato,  I  hail  the  omen.  The  rain 
drops  now  and  then  upon  my  paper.  The  camp  is  quieting 
itself  to  sleep.  The  other  morning  General  Banks  came 
over  to  our  camp  and  happened  in  on  a  battalion  drill.  The 
Colonel  rattled  things,  and  General  Banks  was  delighted. 
It  was  a  clever  drill,  and  General  Banks  thought  it  better 
than  it  was,  so  we  are  the  pet  of  head-quarters.  I  wrote 
you  a  line  after  my  return  from  Washington.  Colonel  Wil 
liam  reigns  at  his  camp,  as  of  course  he  would.  1  think 
his  military  career  will  credit  him.  He  has  the  energy  and 
purpose  for  achievement.  He  gives  spirit  to  his  men.  Bar 
ring  accident  or  impatience,  he  will  do  well.  If  every  man 
will  be  content  to  fill  his  place  in  this  war,  without  pushing 
for  the  next  higher,  all  will  go  well. 

"  I  broke  off,  last  night,  at  this  point,  and  now  it  is  Sun 
day  morning,  before  breakfast.  A  bright,  glowing  morning, 
with  mists  rising  from  the  river  and  hills,  promising  a  hot 
day.  The  Doctor  is  at  the  door  of  my  bower,  as  he  calls  it, 
beckoning  me  away  to  breakfast.  The  Doctor's  servant  got 
hold  of  some  whiskey,  the  other  night,  which  had  been 
seized  from  a  secessionist,  and  got  crazy  drunk  with  it.  He 
roused  the  whole  camp.  He  had  gone  off  in  the  woods,  and 


72  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

suddenly  fancied  himself  commanding  an  army,  and  made 
the  woods  resound  with  '  forward,'  '  charge  bayonets,'  &c., 
&G.  He  had  to  be  tied  and  gagged,  which  made  an  inci 
dent  for  the  late  evening.  The  Doctor*  is  now  reproving 
him  with  copious  satire.  '  Peas  on  the  trencher,'  or  break 
fast-call,  is  beating.  I  will  go  to  breakfast,  and  later,  will 

wind  up  my  story 

"  You  say  that  the  three  months'  men  ought  not  to  come 
back.  Yes  they  ought,  unless  in  the  presence  of  imme 
diate  duty.  You  cannot  expect  anything  else.  But  it 
was  a  big  blunder  having  three  months'  men.  The  law  is 
at  fault,  not  the  men.  Human  nature  is  not  such  an  ex 
alted  thing  that  you  can  expect  men  to  move  by  regiments, 
and  at  a  double-quick,  in  the  path  of  duty  and  self-sacrifice. 
Here  and  there  one,  but  not  armies,  move  voluntarily  in  that 
direction.  Impulse  is  transitory.  Continued  and  sustained 
hard  work,  hunger  and  discomfort  are  not  palatable 

"  Monday  Morning. 

"  Rain  !  rain  !  rain  !  since  yesterday  noon.  And  such  a 
night !  Pouring  water,  India-rubber  blankets  !  Dripping 
from  the  branches  and  leaves  of  my  bower  like  a  damp  cave 
with  its  dropping  stalactites.  A  leak  here  and  a  wet  place 
there  on  the  bed.  A  sudden,  more  violent  shower.  The 
Doctor  wakes  in  his  bower,  and  says,  '  By  Jove,  I  might  as 
well  try  to  sleep  on  lily-pads  in  a  pond.'  The  Major  cachi- 
nates.  The  Colonel  rouses  himself  and  laughs  in  his  drib 
bling  bower.  Doctor,  again :  '  There,  my  pistol  is  wet  to 
the  skin.'  At  last,  morning,  and  still  rain.  So  we  go. 
To-morrow,  sun  again.  I  wish  you  all  health  and  happiness. 
Let  us  pray  for  a  strong  government,  bent  on  immediate 


*  Lucius  Manlius  Sargent,  Jr ,  then  Surgeon  of  the  Second  Massachusetts 
Infantry,  afterwards  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  the  Second  Massachusetts  Cavalry. 
In  a  "  most  gallant  charge  "  upon  the  enemy,  near  Bellefield,  Virginia,  he  fell 
mortally  wounded  on  the  9th  of  December,  1864. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  73 

"DEPARTMENT  SHENANDOAII,  MARYLAND  HEIGHTS, 
August  15,  1861. 

"  I  have,  probably,  just  time,  this  morning,  to  report  to 
you  our  progress.  The  cold  and  wet  made  our  tents  an 
absolute  necessity  to  us,  and  so  yesterday  General  Banks 
ordered  them  brought  on  to  the  hill.  The  bushes  were 
swept  away,  and  again  the  plain  whitened  with  our  tents ; 
and,  as  if  to  celebrate  the  occasion,  the  dull  sky  broke,  the 
sun  came  out,  and  at  evening  the  band  was  playing  in  the 
moonlight,  and  we  were  in  camp  again.  Only  our  tents 
were  left  by  the  wagons.  The  rest  of  the  baggage  pru 
dently  retired  behind  the  hill  before  sunset. 

"  Yesterday  the  accounts  from  down  the  river  of  skir 
mishings  and  of  a  movement  of  the  enemy  kept  up  a  flight 
of  lively  rumors  through  the  camps.  Two  of  the  pieces  of 
our  battery  were  taken  down  the  hill,  and  there  was  a 
preparation  for  movement,  if  necessary.  We  heard  nothing 
during  the  night,  however,  and  this  morning,  as  the  mist 
rises,  it  does  not  disclose  the  rapid  advance  of  cavalry  or 
the  frowning  presence  of  angry  batteries.  It  is  odd,  how 
ever,  to  notice  how  imaginative  are  the  optics  of  some  men 
in  camp.  They  are  always  seeing  the  enemy.  A  wagon- 
load  of  rails  seems  a  squadron  of  cavalry.  A  large  Mon 
day's  wash  near  the  horizon  is  an  encampment.  A  clump 
of  firs  with  two  cows  and  a  flock  of  sheep  are  as  many  as  a 
thousand  infantry.  Their  heated  fancy  detects  a  heavy 
cannonading  or  the  rattle  of  musketry  in  every  sound.  All 
these  thick-coming  fancies  are  dissipated  by  a  correct  ear, 

or  resolved  by  a  good  glass.  It  is  a  part  of  our  life 

I  am  giving  personal  attention  to  every  detail  of  feeding 
and  clothing,  and  expect  to  get  the  system  so  organized  that 
it  must  always  work  right.  It  does  work  so  now,  but,  in 
the  exigencies  of  service,  there  are  hitches  and  rubs  inevit 
able.  To  allow  for  friction  in  human  affairs,  and  to  over 
come  it,  is  a  problem  that,  in  all  new  enterprises,  has  to  be 
learned  out  of  practical,  experimental  teachings. 


74  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

What  an  outrage  it  is  that  the  newspaper  reporters  cannot 
be  checked  !  Yesterday's  New  York  Times  contains  a  full 
statement  of  number  and  strength  of  the  regiments  with 
this  Division.  These  papers  go  South  freely.  Think  what 
it  would  be  to  us  if  we  could  have  daily  papers  from  the 
South  with  statements  of  their  forces,  positions,  and  move 
ments.  It  would  give  certainty  to  what  is  now  the  chief 
element  of  uncertainty.  But  the  South  does  not  allow  the 
printing  of  such  information,  and  would  not  let  it  come 
North  if  it  did.  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  succeed,  if  we  do 

not  take  the  obvious  precaution  of  military  affairs 

I  must  go  and  see  about  a  survey  of  condemned  bread, 

about  an  issue  of  new  shoes,  about  drill,  &c.,  &c We 

are  building  a  road  over  the  mountain  fit  for  the  passage 
of  artillery  and  wagons.  That  keeps  two  companies  busy 
every  day. 

"  Wednesday  Evening. 

"  Yesterday  was  made  famous  and  busy  by  the  arrival 
of  the  paymaster,  laden  with  gold.  I  was  active  all  the 
afternoon,  getting  the  men  to  the  pay-table  with  order  and 
system.  Harper's  Ferry  was  quiet,  showing  no  sign.  Or 
ders  came  to  go  over  there  with  a  small  force  and  destroy 
the  mill  and  remaining  wheat  of  Mr.  Herr.  Colonel  Andrews 
was  despatched  with  two  companies.  Delays  in  crossing 
brought  their  work  into  the  night.  The  artillery  was  no 
longer  a  protection.  Colonel  Gordon  determined  to  recall 
the  party.  I  went  to  do  it.  The  Doctor  and  I  crossed  at 
about  eight  o'clock.  Found  the  town  deserted.  The  panic- 
stricken  had  left.  Blinds  were  closed.  Deadness  every 
where.  Went  up  to  the  mill,  ordered  in  the  companies. 
At  half  past  nine  o'clock  we  were  returning,  in  the  moon 
light,  over  the  river,  —  companies  in  flat-boats,  —  a  magnifi 
cent  night.  But  the  uncertainty  of  moonlight  did  not  favor 
the  nature  of  our  enterprise,  and  would  aid  them.  There 
is  no  appearance  of  any  force  near  Harper's  Ferry.  I  do 
not  believe  the  enemy  are  in  any  strength  near  us.  Their 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  75 

cavalry  comes  in  cautiously  every  day,  and  presses  teams, 
&c.  The  town  has  run  away  from  itself,  and  it  is  sad  to  see 
the  change  since  our  entry.  Sad  to  hear  the  accounts  of 
oppression  and  ruin  which  come  to  us  from  the  Union 
people  who  are  running  from  the  sinking  ship. 

"  This  morning,  Colonel  Andrews  has  just  gone  off  with 
a  company  to  complete  the  destruction  of  the  mill.  We 
have  orders  to  leave  Harper's  Ferry,  and  go  to  Buckeyes- 
town,  or  some  such  euphonious  place.  I  suppose  that  be 
fore  night  we  shall  have  our  tents  struck,  and  be  on  the 
march  again." 


76  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 


CHAPTER  V. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  BELOW  SANDY  HOOK.  —  CAMP  STAMPEDE. — 
MARYLAND  HEIGHTS.  —  BUCKEYESTOWN.  —  ROCKVILLE.  —  WASH 
INGTON.  —  CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN. 

"  CAMP  BELOW  SANDY  HOOK,  August  18,  1861. 

"  ~T)ROGRESS  is  the  law  of  life.  Therefore  retreat  is 
abnormal  and  depressing.  When  I  looked  at  Har 
per's  Ferry  drifting  again  under  bare  poles  into  secessionism, 
I  felt  low.  There  was  the  flagstaff  in  the  silent  town,  — 
the  flag  had  just  been  hauled  down.  The  last  flat-boat, 
with  its  last  company,  was  coming  across  the  river.  On 
Friday  evening  the  orders  came  to  strike  tents,  leave  a  force 
on  the  Heights,  and  for  the  regiment  to  be  ready  to  move. 
Colonel  Gordon  left  me,  with  three  companies,  on  our  old 
ground.  He  took  the  rest  below  and  waited  the  crossing  of 
the  river  by  Colonel  Andrews. 

"  It  was  just  at  dusk  when  the  regiment  moved  off.  The 
mists  were  drifting  thickly  down  the  mountain  sides  as  the 
men  wound  off  into  the  woods.  I  posted  a  new  guard,  got 
the  men  under  cover  as  well  as  I  could,  and  awaited  the 
inevitable  rain.  We  were  without  tents  and  without  huts. 
The  night  passed  wearily  in  a  driving  rain.  The  bands  were 
playing  confusedly  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  as 
the  forces  were  moving  down  the  river.  At  last  came  light 
enough  to  call  it  Saturday  morning.  I  was  up  and  out 
agitating  the  breakfast  question.  By  good  luck  I  got  hold 
of  some  stores  accidentally  left  by  the  Quartermaster,  and 
distributing  them,  succeeded  in  getting  a  hot  breakfast  into 
my  three  wet  companies.  Then  I  waited  orders.  At  last 
Colonel  Andrews  brought  them.  I  got  the  men  in  march 
ing  order,  and  in  the  blue  rain  we  started.  I  got  my  com- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  77 

mand  safely  down  to  the  river,  and  rejoined  the  regiment  in 
Sandy  Hook,  where  I  found  it  just  ready  to  march.  Then 
again  came  orders  to  remain  to  hold  Sandy  Hook,  and  to 
send  a  force  over  to  Harper's  Ferry  to  seize  all  the  flour  in 
Herr's  mill.  Colonel  Andrews  returned  to  the  Ferry  with 
five  companies.  All  last  night  the  flour  was  coming  across 
the  river  in  boats.  Our  friend  Mr.  Herr  was  treated  very 
unceremoniously,  but  he  liked  it.  He  seemed  to  think  it  a 
choice  between  secession  bonds  and  Union  gold  ;  and  if  he 
could  get  the  latter  for  his  flour,  he  would  be  content.  So 
the  troops  seized  his  premises  and  took  his  flour,  and  he 
acquiesced  with  a  good  grace.  The  rest  of  the  regiment 
came  down  two  miles  below  Harper's  Ferry,  and  here  we 
are,  this  Sunday  morning,  waiting  to  be  joined  by  Colonel 
Andrews's  companies,  who  have  recrossed  the  river  this 
morning,  with  all  their  flour  safe  on  this  side.  I  am  scrib 
bling  this  letter  in  the  Doctor's  tent,  interrupted  by  ques 
tions,  and  bothered  by  difficulties  of  commissariat.  These 
sudden  moves  and  this  detached  service  are  hard  tests  of 
ingenuity.  You  see  all  the  army  conveniences  move  with 
the  army.  The  regiment  that  is  left  behind  is  ill  provided. 
We  have  been  using  the  telegraph,  and  killing  fresh  beef, 
and  seizing  flour,  and  I  think  we  shall  not  go  hungry.  The 
impression  seems  to  be,  that  an  attempt  will  be  made  by  the 
Rebels  to  reach  Baltimore,  or  get  round  Washington.  That 
is  thought  to  be  the  cause  of  our  movement.  If  such  an 

attempt  is  made,  it  will  fail My  baggage  is  all  gone. 

I  have  nothing  but  a  tent  and  a  blanket,  and  so  am  free 
from  care.  Colonel  Gordon  is  just  galloping  into  camp. 
Orders  are  out  for  striking  tents.  We  shall  soon  be  in  the 
midst  of  the  work  of  getting  into  shape  in  a  new  camp 
nearer  Harper's  Ferry." 

"  CAMP  BELOW  SANDY  HOOK,  August  18,  1861. 

"  Well,  not  so  quiet  and  slow  a  Sunday,  after  all.     When 
I  closed  and  mailed  my  letter  this  morning,  on  the  abrupt 


78  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

order  to  i  strike  tents  and  pack  wagons,'  I  did  not  foresee 
the  briskness  of  the  day.  The  whole  regiment,  with  much 
expedition,  got  upon  its  new  camping-ground  nearer  the 
hills  and  nearer  Harper's  Ferry.  At  one  o'clock  the  field 
of  our  new  encampment  was  already  white.  At  about  three 
I  started  on  my  horse  to  ride  down  to  the  canal  and  hurry 
off  the  boat-load  of  flour  that  had  been  seized.  Before  I 
got  there  I  met  the  report  that  the  Rebel  cavalry  had  en 
tered  Harper's  Ferry,  and  that  our  men  were  firing  on  them 
from  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Potomac.  I  hurried  on  and 
galloped  into  Sandy  Hook.  The  citizens  had  gathered  un 
der  the  protection  of  some  buildings.  When  I  got  to  the 
Ferry,  just  above  where  the  old  bridge  was  burnt,  I  found 
Captain  Cogswell's  company,  which  was  there  stationed, 
watching  its  chances  to  fire  on  the  enemy  who  might  show 
themselves  in  the  town  opposite.  Colonel  Andrews,  who 
was  there  superintending  the  exit  of  the  flour,  was  watching 
to  direct  their  fire.  They  had  succeeded  in  dismounting  one 
or  two  horsemen,  and  in  scattering  the  whole  body  round 
the  point  beyond  the  hill.  Lieutenant  Brown,  who  was 
loading  the  ferry-boat,  saw  the  cavalry  coming  down  the 
Shenandoah  road.  His  citizen  workmen  fled  incontinently. 
His  soldiers  put  the  few  remaining  barrels  on  board,  includ 
ing  that  portion  of  flour  which  was  the  promised  pay  of  the 
citizen  workmen,  Brown  telling  them  afterwards  they  had 
lost  it  by  running.  Colonel  Andrews  immediately  ordered 
•some  of  Captain  Cogswell's  men  to  climb  the  hill  so  as  to 
bring  the  Rebel  horse  within  range.  Their  shots  scattered 
the  cavalry  who  had  formed  in  the  square  by  the  Armory. 
A  brisk  interchange  of  shots  ensued.  Captain  Gary's  com 
pany  was  stationed  above,  on  the  Potomac,  to  guard  the 
ford.  A  fatigue  party  from  his  company  were  down  at  the 
river-bank  obstructing  the  passage-way  from  the  ford.  The 
Rebels  opened  fire  on  them. 

"  Captain  Gary  deployed  his  company  as  skirmishers,  and 
they  returned  the  whistling  bullets.     I  arrived  just  as  the 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OP   WILDER   DWIGIIT.  79 

fire  was  ceasing.  After  starting  the  boat,  which,  as  good 
luck  would  have  it,  had  on  board  every  barrel  of  flour  seized 
except  thirty  kept  for  our  own  use,  I  went  on  to  give  some 
orders  to  Captain  Gary.  I  found  him  and  his  company  in 
cheerful  temper,  and  watching  for  '  good  shots.'  Then  I 
went  up  the  hill  to  our  lookout.  Lieutenant  Horton  was 
there  with  a  picket.  He  pointed  out  where  the  troops  had 
been,  and  I  also  saw  a  retreating  body  of  horse  on  the 
Charlestown  road.  Leaving  him,  I  returned  to  Colonel 
Andrews,  below,  at  the  ford,  found  everything  quiet,  and 
then  came  back  to  camp  to  report.  This  evening  I  have 
been  again  to  Sandy  Hook,  and  all  is  quiet.  We  think  it  is 
only  a  sudden  dash  to  prevent  our  seizure  of  the  flour  which 
they  coveted.  By  working  all  night  we  had  got  our  prey 
the  right  side  of  the  swift  river,  and  the  boat  went  out  of 
range  of  them  on  the  canal  just  as  they  got  to  the  ferry. 
Our  position,  too,  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  in  shelter  of 
the  trees,  enabled  us  to  sprinkle  our  shots  freely  through 
the  town.  So  their  scheme  failed.  Still  we  may  from  time 
to  time  exchange  shots  with  them.  We  are  well  posted. 
They  cannot  cross  the  river  easily,  and  we  are  not  in  force 
to  attempt  it,  so  there  is  no  danger,  and  much  amusement 
and  liveliness  in  possible  store  for  us.  Our  flour  and  some 
other  stores  taken  have  given  us  a  fine  commissariat.  We 
have  plenty  to  eat,  and  are  in  good  spirits. 

"  A  scout  from  Harper's  Ferry  reports  a  company  of  in 
fantry  in  one  of  their  churches.  So  our  successors  followed 
close  upon  our  heels." 

"  CAMP  STAMPEDE,  MARYLAND  HEIGHTS, 
Tuesday  Evening,  August  20,  1861. 

"  A  soldier's  life  is  always  gay !  Yesterday,  Colonel  An 
drews  and  I  went  out  prospecting,  as  they  say  in  this  coun 
try,  —  reconnoitring,  I  prefer  to  call  it. 

"  At  the  Ferry  we  found  a  slight  panic  caused  by  the 
reported  advent  of  a  few  cavalry  in  the  town.  Colonel 
A.  and  I  went  on  up  the  mountnin  and  spent  the  afternoon 


80  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

in  looking  about,  &c.  We  wound  down  the  new  mountain 
road,  built  by  the  immortal  Massachusetts  Second,  just  at 
sunset,  after  enjoying  the  glorious  views  up  the  two  valleys. 
Then  we  had  a  quiet  dress-parade,  and  composed  ourselves 
for  the  night.  Composed  ourselves  for  the  night !  Here 
comes  the  incident  of  my  letter.  Now  for  the  catastrophe 
of  my  story.  The  Doctor  appeared  at  the  door  of  my  tent, 
breaking  the  first  sleep,  to  say  the  Colonel  had  just  received 
a  special  message,  and  ridden  off  on  horse.  I  refused  to 
be  disturbed  or  excited,  and  got  asleep  again.  At  half  past 
one  the  Colonel  appeared.  '  Major,  get  the  tents  struck,  and 
set  the  men  cooking  rations.  I  have  information  that  the 
Rebels  are  advancing  on  Harper's  Ferry.'  Up  I  went. 
Captains  were  awakened.  Soon  the  camp  was  silently  busy 
on  its  work  for  starting.  Then  I  was  ordered  to  saddle  my 
horse  and  get  a  messenger  to  call  the  Massachusetts  Thir 
teenth,  Colonel  Leonard,  from  Sharpsburg.  I  went  gallop 
ing  off  in  the  night  through  the  fields  to  a  house  where  a 
Union  man  lives,  who  gave  me  the  direction  of  a  safe  mes 
senger,  then  back  to  camp.  Then  Dr.  Sargent  was  de 
spatched  to  Berlin,  down  the  river,  to  get  two  pieces  of 
artillery  which  General  Banks  had  ordered  up  to  protect 
the  ford.  Then  the  camp-fires  were  glowing,  and  I  spent 
an  hour  among  the  cooks,  urging  on  the  rations.  Then  the 
dawn  began  to  peep.  Colonel  Andrews  went  up  the  hill  to 
gaze,  through  the  first  light,  at  Harper's  Ferry  and  its  sur 
roundings.  Light  brought  the  conviction  that  our  haste 
was  premature. 

"  The  packed  wagons  were  ready  to  move.  The  regi 
ment  was  ready  to  hold  ford  and  ferry  as  long  as  possible, 
and  we  were  all  agog.  The  morning  came,  and  no  enemy 
were  in  position.  We  had  our  stampede.  The  reports  of 
the  enemy  were  circumstantial  and  probable,  but  the  appear 
ance  failed  to  confirm  them.  ,  This  morning  the  camp  is 
composed  again.  But  life  has  been  lively  and  brisk,  though 
fruitless,  for  the  last  twelve  hours 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  81 

"  Here  comes  the  Colonel,  who  has  been  down  to  Sandy 
Hook.  He  brings  news  that  the  paymaster  is  coming. 
Hurrah  !  Also  that  three  hundred  car-loads  of  troops  went 
into  Washington  on  Monday.  Good  ! 

"  We  are  awaking,  I  hope,  to  the  size  of  the  work.  A 
short  war  is  the  policy,  but  a  war.  I  am  glad  you  are  get 
ting  awake  to  it.  No  one  who  can  come,  effectively,  has  a 
right  to  stay  at  home." 

"  BUCKEYESTOWN,  August  23,  1861,  Friday,  in  Camp. 

"  I  began  a  letter  before  breakfast  this  morning,  but  my 
pen  dragged  so  that  I  tore  it  up.  Now  I  have  a  short  time, 
and  perhaps  not  a  long  story,  but  certainly  a  good  breakfast 
to  tell  it  on.  And  this  same  matter  of  a  good  breakfast  is 
not  a  small  one.  The  foraging  on  a  march  is  not  easy. 
Chickens  and  eggs  and  bread  and  butter  and  milk,  <fcc.,  all 
have  to  be  extemporized  by  our  darkies,  as  we  go  along. 
Sometimes  we  do  well ;  sometimes,  badly.  This  morning, 
being  bent  on  eggs,  I  sent  my  little  English  groom  off  on 
horseback.  He  went  to  a  farm-house,  into  a  hen-yard,  and 
waited  for  cackling.  Presently  he  returned,  and  said  :  '  I  've 
an  egg  for  ye,  sir.  I  waited  till  the  hen  laid  it,  and  then 
brought  the  hen  and  the  egg.'  That  is  close  work,  I  think. 

"  I  sent  you  a  letter  Wednesday  morning.  Immediately 
after  came  marching  orders.  I  hurried  off  on  horseback  to 
call  in  our  scattered  forces.  First,  I  went  to  Harper's  Ferry, 
and  found  Colonel  Andrews  destroying  our  friend  Herr's 
mill.  Herr  was  very  sombre.  His  little  boy,  with  whom 
I  have  a  friendship,  rushed  up  to  me,  and  said  chokingly : 
4  It  is  too  bad  to  destroy  the  mill ;  but  it 's  the  secessionists 
that 's  the  cause  of  it,  is  n't  it,  Major  ?  '  I  told  him,  Yes. 
Andrews  was  breaking  the  buckets  of  the  turbine  wheel, 
and  smashing  the  gearing  of  the  mill.  He  had  Company 
A,  from  Lowell,  who  are  the  mechanics  of  our  regiment. 
He  was  sorry  to  be  interrupted,  but  there  was  no  remedy, 
and  so  off  he  came. 


82  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGIIT. 

"  Then  I  went  back  and  off  on  to  Battery  Hill  to  get  the 
artillery  off;  then  again  to  recall  an  outlying  picket  on 
top  of  the  mountain  ;  then  galloped  back  to  camp  to  see 
about  rations  ;  then,  at  last,  the  regiment  got  in  marching 
array.  The  day  was  bright  and  cool,  —  the  regiment  moved 
off  at  twelve  o'clock.  Hard  bread  in  haversacks,  and  hop 
ing  for  something  better.  Money  in  pocket,  and,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  an  occasional  excess  of  whiskey  in  a  guilty  canteen. 
Pay-day  has  its  evils,  as  I  thought  when  directing  two 
drunken  men  to  be  tied  and  put  in  a  wagon. 

"  We  made  a  brisk  march  of  twelve  miles  to  Jefferson. 
There  we  spent  the  night.  The  next  morning,  after  a  te 
dious  delay  in  a  depressing  rain  to  get  our  wagons  mended, 
we  again  moved  on  up,  up,  up  a  long  hill  in  a  close,  muggy 
dog-day.  The  men's  knapsacks  pulled  on  them,  and  when 
we  came  on  to  our  present  camping-ground,  at  four  o'clock, 
there  was  a  long  trail  of  lame  ducks  behind.  They  soon 
came  in,  and  now  are  looking  forward  to  another  tramp. 

"  The  panic-stricken  women  and  children  pursued  us,  as 
we  came  away  from  Harper's  Ferry,  not  daring  to  remain 
without  our  protection.  The  Rebels  are  foraging  all  through 
the  country  there  ;  but  nothing  more  than  that  appears  to 
be  done  anywhere,  though  rumor  is  trumpet-tongued  with 
reports  of  armies  large  enough  to  conquer  the  hemisphere. 
Mark  my  prophecy.  Beauregard  lacks  transportation.  He 
cannot  move  one  hundred  thousand  men  across  the  Poto 
mac.  This  has  prevented  and  will  prevent  his  active  opera 
tions.  But  it  is  not  improbable  that  there  will  be  skirmishes 
along  the  river." 

"  ROCKVILLE,  MARYLAND,  August  24,  1861. 

"  Here  I  turn  up  this  evening,  as  much  to  my  own  sur 
prise  as  yours.  I  got  a  short  note  on  its  way  to  you  from 
Buckeyestown,  just  before  we  were  off.  Friday  morning  at 
twelve  '  the  general ?  was  beaten,  and  at  the  signal  every 
tent  fell  as  by  a  single  will.  Then  the  '  assembly  '  sounded, 
and  the  regiment  formed  into  line.  The  ceremony  of  start- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  83 

ing  was  for  the  first  time  performed  with  promptness  and 
accuracy.  We  marched  without  knapsacks.  The  men  were 
all  paid,  and  we  rattled  along  briskly.  Our  wagons  were 
hardly  as  lucky,  and,  though  the  regiment  got  on  to  its  camp 
ing-ground  soon  after  four,  the  wagons  dragged  slowly  in 
until  nine.  This  made  us  late  in  camping,  and  late  in  sup 
per.  We  were  camped  by  the  river-side,  and  the  evening 
had  an  autumn  chill  and  a  heavy  dew.  I  know  of  nothing 
more  cheerless  than  the  getting  late  into  camp  after  a  march. 
Every  one  is  tired  ;  every  one  is  hungry ;  every  one  is  cross. 
Every  thing  seems  •  to  be  going  wrong.  Yet  at  last  all  the 
men  get  their  supper,  or  go  without  their  supper.  The 
last  camp-fire  falls  down  into  sullen  coals.  The  last  tent- 
light  fades  out,  and  the  chilly  whiteness  of  the  camp  throws 
back  the  paleness  of  the  moon.  As  the  dawn  reddens, -re- 
veill£  comes  fresh  as  the  lark,  and  soon  the  sunshine  lights 
up  a  busy  scene.  The  men  are  rested,  and  have  forgotten 
their  hunger  in  a  good  breakfast.  The  band  plays  gayly  at 
guard-mounting,  and  a  fresh  life  begins  for  the  day  again. 
Such  was  our  experience  of  camp  last  night  and  this  morn 
ing.  I  was  just  composing  myself  to  camp-life.  We  were 
encamped  with  our  brigade.  The  New  York  Ninth  was  on 
our  left.  The  two  Wisconsin  regiments  were  on  the  hill 
above  us.  Webster's  regiment  was  just  beyond  them.  I 
had  listened  to  four  reveilles  in  the  morning,  and  soon  after 
breakfast  the  hills  were  alive  with  skirmishers  at  drill.  I 
was  sitting  in  my  tent  when  the  Colonel  called  out,  '  Major, 
you  must  go  to  Washington.'  c  What ! '  said  I,  '  to  Wash 
ington  ?  '  4  Yes.'  You  are  ordered  to  go  in  command  of 
an  escort  of  a  large  wagon-train,  and  are  to  report  for  in 
structions  immediately  at  head-quarters.' 

"  I  found  that  two  parts  of  the  train,  consisting  of  one 
hundred  wagons  each,  had  already  gone  on.  The  third  was 
expected  from  Frederick  to-day.  Captain  Mudge's  com 
pany  were  ordered  to  escort  that  train  when  it  arrived,  and 
I  was  directed  to  choose  my  own  time,  but  to  proceed  to 


84  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

Washington,  and  see  the  wagons  turned  over  to  the  Quarter 
master,  and  take  care  of  the  battalion  of  three  companies 
while  it  remained  in  Washington,  and  march  it  back  to 
Hyattstown.  The  wagons  to  remain  in  Washington.  '  The 
train  may  be  interrupted  by  Rebel  cavalry,'  said  Colonel 
Cromman,  the  Quartermaster,  i  so  it  needs  an  escort.'  I 
got  everything  in  readiness,  gave  Captain  Mudge  his  in 
structions,  and  directed  him  to 'wait  for  the  wagons.'  And 
at  three  o'clock  this  afternoon  was  in  the  saddle  on  my  way 
in  pursuit  of  the  other  companies  and  trains.  I  had  a 
charming  ride,  —  a  little  warm  at  first.  —  through  a  beauti 
ful  country,  and  animated  by  just  the  least  uncertainty  as 
to  the  path.  But  I  met  nothing  but  respect  for  my  uniform. 
After  a  ride  of  eighteen  miles  I  stopped  at  this  town  of 
Rockville,  the  '  county  seat,'  as  they  say  in  this  country.  I 
selected  a  tavern  that  had  a  Union  flag  flying,  and  rejoiced 
in  the  safe  name  of  '  the  Washington  House.'  This  is  a 
secession  town  of  the  worst  kind,  but  they  have  not  confi 
dence  enough  yet  to  do  anything  more  than  look  cross.  At 
the  tea-table  we  were  protected  from  the  flies  by  a  series  of 
fans  worked  by  a  rope  and  pulleys,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
rope  was  a  little  negro  girl  who  swung  back  and  forth  and 
kept  the  fans  moving  indefatigably.  It  was  an  odd  picture, 
worthy  of  Eastman  Johnson's  pencil.  I  shall  be  in  the  saddle 
again  at  five  to-morrow  morning,  and  in  Washington  before 
eight." 

"  WASHINGTON,  Sunday  Morning,  Quartermaster's  Office. 

"  I  had  a  fine  ride  this  morning,  and  got  to  the  War  De 
partment  at  eight  o'clock.  Now  I  am  waiting  to  find  out 
where  to  camp,  and  how  to  turn  over  the  wagons,  &c.  A 
maze  without  a  plan  does  Washington  seem  to  one  who 
comes  into  it  as  I  have.  Camps  met  •  my  eye  within  six 
miles  of  the  city.  I  noticed,  too,  some  fortifications  of  a 
rude  kind  ;  but  of  course  from  one  glance  I  know  only  a 
mass  of  things,  nothing  distinctly Washington  is  evi 
dently  safe  enough,  just  as  I  knew  it  was." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  85 

"  WASHINGTON,  August  26th,  1861. 

"  I  am  probably  to  leave  for  home,  i.  e.  camp,  to-morrow. 
Everything  has  gone  quite  well  with  me.  I  put  up  with  my 
classmate,  A.  S.  Hill,  who  is  the  correspondent  of  the  Tri 
bune.  I  slept  as  well  as  one  can  in  a  bed.  To-day  I  have 
been  in  the  saddle  pursuing  quartermasters,  providing  ra 
tions,  arranging  for  a  departure  to-morrow  if  possible.  I 
dined  with  William,  and  this  evening  we  have  been  out 
together  to  see  General  Couch's  camp.  William  is  in  fine 
spirits,  full  of  energy  and  go.  He  is  making  his  regiment 
as  perfect  as  the  material  will  allow,  and  is  full  of  his  work. 
I  should  be  glad  to  feel  in  trim  for  a  letter,  but  I  am  too 
tired  for  it  now ;  besides,  General  Heintzelman,  who  had  a 
brigade,  and  was  wounded  at  Bull  Run,  is  in  the  room  where 
I  write,  and  is  talking  of  the  fight  with  one  or  two  newspaper 
men  who  are  in  Hill's  room,  which  is  the  Tribune  head-quar 
ters.  The  General  is  an  unpretending  man,  and  his  conver 
sation  is  interesting,  my  letter  not.  He  says  that  *  a  sufficient 
cause  for  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  is,  that  a  regi 
ment  appeared  in  front  of  Griffin's  battery,  within  one  hun 
dred  yards.  The  cannon  were  loaded  with  canister,  just 
ready  to  fire.  An  officer  of  our  army  came  up  and  begged 
Griffin  not  to  fire,  as  the  troops  were  our  own.  They  carried 
no  flag  ;  the  cannon  were  turned,  and  fired  to  another  point, 
then  the  regiment  opened  fire,  killed  all  the  cannoneers, 
and  took  the  battery.  The  discharge  of  that  canister 
would  have  cut  that  regiment  to  pieces,  and  changed  the 
result  in  that  part  of  the  field.'  These  words  are  just  from 
his  lips.  It  shows  the  importance  of  a  uniform  uniform,  and 
it  shows  the  folly  of  States'  rights  in  every  shape.  But  it 
is  not  very  profitable  to  speculate  upon  the  various  explana 
tions  of  defeat.  I  think  we  are  drawing  lessons  from  that 
battle.  I  think,  too,  that  McClellan's  spirit  is  a  fine  one. 
Certainly  there  is  more  vigor,  military  ardor,  and  glow  here 
than  with  our  column.  Another  influence  and  a  stronger 
spirit  is  at  work  here,  and  I  want  to  get  within  its  range." 


86  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN,  August  30,  1861. 

"  It  is  broad,  bright  noon  ;  the  men  are  cooking  their 
breakfasts,  the  sun  is  drying  out  their  clothes,  the  tents  are 
ready  to  pitch,  the  Brigade  Quartermaster  is  sitting  in  our 
tent  rehearsing  his  exploits  on  the  road,  —  how  one  teamster 
beat  a  horse's  eye  out ;  how,  if  another  had  hawed  instead 
of  geeing,  all  would  have  been  well ;  how  the  one-line  Penn 
sylvania  saddle  team-driving  is  better  than  our  four-rein 
driving  of  our  wagons  ;  how  this  and  how  that  would  have 
made  the  march  easier,  and  a  day  march  instead  of  a  night 
one.  And  such  a  march  !  But  I  must  go  back  and  bring 
myself  from  Washington.  I  wrote  a  hurried  scratch  one 
evening  while  listening  to  General  Heintzelman's  account 
of  Bull  Run.  My  next  day  was  busy  with  the  providing 
for  my  companies,  and  getting  a  delivery  of  the  wagons  to 
government.  I  was  quartermaster,  commissary,  colonel, 
major,  and  all  in  one.  At  last,  however,  I  succeeded  in 
arranging  things  to  my  mind,  and  went  out  of  town  to  my 
camp  at  Georgetown.  Here  I  had  collected  the  three 
companies  which  had  come  as  escort  of  three  separate  trains. 
Here,  too,  I  had  packed  two  of  the  trains. 

"  On  Wednesday  morning  we  made  a  good  start  from 
camp,  and  Captain  Handy,  of  the  Webster  regiment,  led 
the  column  briskly.  We  marched  nineteen  miles,  a  strong 
day's  work.  It  was  a  cloudy,  drizzly  day.  The  companies 
came  into  camp  at  four  o'clock.  Tents  were  pitched,  sup 
per  got  briskly.  Captain  Mudge,  Lieutenants  Shaw  and 
Robeson  were  the  officers  of  the  company  from  our  regi 
ment. 

"  Mr.  Desellum,*  who  lived  near  our  camping-ground,  in 
vited  us  to  supper  with  him,  and  gave  us  what  we  all  prized, 
—  a  good  one.  Appetite  and  digestion  wait  on  one  another 
on  a  march.  Mr.  Desellum  was  a  character.  He  had  lived 
on  his  place  all  his  life,  and  never  gone  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  two  adjoining  counties  ;  his  father  and  grandfather  were 

*  See  Appendix  VII. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  87 

rooted  in  the  same  soil.  He  gave  me  a  full  account  of  the 
surrounding  country,  and  also  a  capital  map.  Both  he  and 
his  maiden  sister  were  ardent  Union  lovers,  and  bitter  in 
their  hatred  of  Jeff  Davis.  He  was  very  calm  and  intelli 
gent,  formal  and  precise,  full  of  talk  of  the  war,  of  the 
battles  of  Napoleon,  &c.  He  lives  with  his  sister  in  their 
faultlessly  clean  home,  with  twenty-five  negroes.  When 
asked  if  he  owned  slaves,  '  No,  the  slaves  own  me,'  which, 
I  think,  expresses  his  conscientious  performance  of  his 
duties.  I  gave  orders  to  have  reveille'  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  and  to  have  a  brisk  start.  I  took  pleasure  in  at 
tempting  to  realize  some  of  my  theories  about  the  march, 
and  had  great  satisfaction  in  accomplishing  a  good  break 
fast  and  an  early  start ;  and  before  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning  my  men  had  marched  from  their  camp  on  Muddy 
Creek  to  Nealsville,  eight  miles.  There  we  met  the  report 
that  the  regiment  had  left  Hyattstown,  and  was  on  the 
march  with  the  whole  column.  I  halted  my  detachment, 
and  galloping  on,  met  General  Banks  at  the  head  of  his 
division.  I  reported  to  him,  and  got  his  order  to  direct  my 
companies  to  join  their  regiments  when  they  came  up. 
Then  I  went  on  myself,  back  to  see  our  regiment ;  I  found 
them  halted  in  a  wood  in  the  driving  rain.  After  a  greeting 
with  the  Colonel,  whom  I  found  acting  as  brigadier  of  our 
brigade  in  the  absence  of  Colonel  Abercrombie,  I  went  back 
again  to  wait  with  my  companies  the  slow  progress  of  the 
column.  It  rained  hard.  The  wagons  made  slow  work. 
At  about  one  o'clock  our  regiment,  the  first  of  the  Second 
Brigade,  reached  us  at  Nealsville.  There  we  turned  off 
down  towards  Darnestown,  —  a  charming  name ! 

"  At  last  we  were  pointed  to  a  camping-ground  at  a  place 
called  Pleasant  Mountain,  —  a  valley  or  hill,  I  can't  say 
which.  But  where  were  our  wagons  ?  Far  back  on  the 
heavy,  wet,  and  swampy  road.  Just  at  dusk  the  regiment 
fell  down,  tired,  into  the  wet  stubble,  and  the  fog  settled 
chill  upon  it.  The  evening  star  looked  mildly  down,  but  it 


CO  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

gave  no  cheer.  Colonel  Andrews  was  sick,  Colonel  Gordon 
in  charge  of  the  brigade.  I  did  what  I  could,  —  got  the 
guard  posted,  good  fires  built  of  the  neighboring  rail-fences, 
in  the  absence  of  other  wood,  and  then,  wet  and  tired,  lay 
down  myself.  The  march  was  mismanaged  by  the  higher 
powers.  It  was  wretched  to  see  our  cold  and  hungry  men 
lying  down  dripping  and  supperless  in  the  cold  fog  to  sleep. 
The  start  was  a  late  one.  The  rain  ruined  the  road,  and 
the  delays  were  so  many  that  the  large  column  made  a  poor 
business  of  its  day's  work.  This  morning  at  five  I  hurried 
off  to  get  up  the  wagons.  The  sun  rose  clear.  By  dint  of 
activity,  getting  a  party  to  mend  road,  &c.,  the  wagons  came 
in  about  ten  o'clock,  and  hope  revived.  I  also  got  a  cup  of 
tea  and  a  breakfast,  and  I  revived.  Such  is  our  life.  I 
have  certainly  been  active  for  a  week,  and  now,  to-day,  comes 
shoe  distributions  and  muster-rolls,  &c.  I  quite  envy  those 
regiments  that  are  quiet  and  in  position  near  Washington, 
with  every  facility  for  order,  discipline,  drill,  food,  &c. ;  but, 
as  Birdofredum  Sawin  says,  <  I  'm  safe  enlisted  for  the 
warj  and  come  what  will,  I  will  be  content.  Though  last 
evening,  in  the  fog  and  dark  and  cold,  I  felt,  as  I  lay  down 
with  wet  feet  and  wet  clothes,  a  little  like  grumbling  at  the 
stupidity  of  our  Adjutant-General,  who  planned  and  exe 
cuted  our  uncomfortable  march,  which  hit  me  just  as  I 
wanted  a  little  rest.  I  was  happy  to  wake  up  this  morning 
with  only  a  little  sensation  of  stiffness,  which  wore  off  in  my 
early  ride  of  six  miles.  During  my  ride  I  snatched  a  break 
fast  at  a  farm-house,  and  enjoyed  the  sensation  of  health 
and  sunshine.  Though  I  began  this  letter  at  noon,  I  am 
finishing  it  by  candle-light.  It  has  been  interrupted  vari 
ously  ;  at  this  moment  the  Colonel  comes  to  my  tent,  and 
says,  4  That  is  a  beautiful  sight,'  pointing  to  the  camp-fires 
and  lights  on  the  hills  about  us.  The  Webster  regiment  is 
just  opposite  us,  and  their  band  is  now  playing.  We  are 
within  six  miles  of  the  Potomac.  Everything  here  looks 
every  day  more  like  business ;  but  we  have  not  the  presence 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  89 

of  McClellan,  and  one  who  has  just  come  from  that  present 
influence  misses  it  as  he  would  the  quick  pulse  of  health. 
The  coming  man  is  not  a  mere  phrase.  There  is  no  cant, 
either,  in  the  phrase.  How  we  have  waited  for  him  !  And 
has  he  come  ?  I  hope.  Discredit  all  rumor.  That  is  my 

advice 

"  I  do  not  seem  to  myself  to  have  given  anything  like 
a  picture  of  the  active  life  of  the  past  week,  but  Colonel 
Andrews  wants  my  help  about  rations,  the  Chaplain  wants 
my  letter  for  the  mail,  I  want  time  for  various  things,  and 
so  good  night." 


90  LIFE  AND   LETTERS   OP  WILDER  D  WIGHT. 


CHAPTEE   VI. 

LETTERS  FROM  PLEASANT  HILL   CAMP,  NEAR  DARNESTOWN. 
"  CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN,  August  31,  1861. 

"  T-F  y°u  have  a  good  map,  you  can  see  our  present  posi 
tion  just  on  Seneca  Creek,  two  miles  from  Darnestown. 
We  were  ordered  to  Darnestown,  but  there  is  no  water 
nearer  than  this  point.  We  are  within  striking  distance  of 
Washington,  and  also  vis-d-vis  of  Leesburg,  about. 

"  I  wish  you  to  buy,  and  forward  by  express,  a  large 
coffee-roaster,  which  will  roast  thirty  or  forty  pounds  at  a 
time.  There  is  a  kind,  I  am  told.  It  would  be  of  immense 
advantage  to  us." 

"CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN,  Monday,  September  2,  1861, 
Supply  Train  Camp. 

"  I  have  got  a  chance  at  pen  and  paper  in  the  Commissa 
ry's  office,  and  improve  the  chance  for  a  letter.  I  am  here 
in  charge  of  two  companies  guarding  our  Division  Supply 
Train,  but  shall  be  relieved  to-day.  The  duty  is  a  tedious 
one.  The  event  of  yesterday  was  the  arrival  of  the  coffee- 
mills.  Colonel  Gordon  reports  that  the  men  are  in  ecstasies 
with  them.  I  am  only  a  witness  by  his  report,  for  I  was 
ordered  off  on  this  duty  just  as  the  coffee-mills  arrived.  I 
know  how  badly  they  were  needed,  and  I  hear  how  admi 
rably  they  work.  Since  our  arrival  here  at  this  new  camp 
we  have  undergone  the  invariable  inconveniences  attending 
the  moving  of  a  division,  and  for  the  past  two  days  my  mind 
and  time  have  been  absorbed  with  the  problem  of  how  to 
overcome  them.  Night  before  last,  having  accumulated  the 
evidence  from  reports  of  captains,  and  from  our  own  quar 
termaster,  about  the  want  of  tea,  hard  bread,  salt  pork,  &c., 
I  went  up  to  General  Banks's  head-quarters,  and  had  a  long 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  91 

talk  with  him,  urging  the  remedies  which  have  occurred  to 
me.  The  General  promises  to  change  all  this,  and  to  accom 
plish  the  regular  and  constant  issue  of  the  ration  to  the 
soldier  in  the  form  and  at  the  moment  required  by  law.  I 
was  so  much  struck  with  the  difference  between  our  condi 
tion  and  that  of  the  grand  army  about  Washington,  that  I 
have  been  the  more  exercised  since  my  return.  One  conso 
lation  I  have,  that  we  are  learning  lessons  and  acquiring 
habits  which  will  have  to  be  learned,  perhaps,  under  less 
favorable  circumstances  by  others  ;  and  I  have  hopes  that 
something  may  be  done  to  make  feeding  easier.  We  have 
had  a  grand  reduction  of  baggage  going  on,  in  order  to  get 
us  into  easier  moving  train.  I  am  persuaded  that  the  true 
equipment  for  the  soldier  is  the  combination  tent  and  knap 
sack,  which  enables  him  to  carry  his  shelter  on  his  back, 
and  which  dispenses  with  more  than  one  half  of  the  wagons 
of  a  regiment.  By  that  arrangement  every  four  men  would 
carry  their  tent.  It  is  put  up  in  a  moment,  and  they  are 
never  separated  from  it.  In  the  future,  if  the  war  lasts,  I 
hope  to  get  our  regiment  equipped  with  it.  The  autumn 
campaign,  however,  must  be  made  in  our  present  trim,  and 
we  must  prepare,  as  best  we  can,  to  make  it.  Where  are 
the  enemy  ?  In  our  isolated  position  we  hear  nothing  of 
them.  I  confess  that  this  quietness  puzzles  me.  If  they 
only  knew  their  opportunities,  what  fine  fun  they  might  have 
had. 

"  My  head-quarters  in  my  present  guard  duty  are  on  a 
pine  hill,  under  a  bower  built  of  pine-boughs.  We  had  a 
good  camp-fire  last  night,  and  I  enjoyed  it  very  much.  This 
morning  I  visited  all  my  pickets  and  outposts  very  early, 
and  had  a  fine  ride  through  the  woods.  I  am  writing  in 
the  midst  of  a  Babel  of  mule-teams,  and  am  surrounded  by 
huge  piles  of  barrels  of  flour  and  hard  bread,  boxes  of  soap, 
bags  of  oats  and  corn,  and  other  stores.  The  wagons  are 
packed  in  two  fields,  and  the  work  of  distribution  is  going 
on  all  the  time.  The  portable  forges  are  just  back  of  the 


92  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OP   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

tent  where  I  write,  and  a  dozen  busy  blacksmiths  are  ring 
ing  their  anvils.  It  is  a  lively  scene.  I  do  not  know  that 
there  is  anything  of  narrative  o*r  prophecy  that  I  can  send 
you  entertaining.  I  hope  father  will  send  the  coffee-roaster, 
and  have  it  as  portable  as  the  required  result  will  allow. 
It  will  complete  my  effort  in  that  direction.  I  have  been 
some  time  without  a  letter,  because  our  mail  has  not  yet 
found  us  out  in  our  new  position.  I  hope  it  will  do  so  to 
morrow.  I  must  get  on  my  horse  and  go  about  to  visit  my 
guard.  We  sent  our  pay-rolls  to  Washington  to-day,  which 
is  prompt  work.  Our  pay  will  come  again  next  week.  The 
men  of  our  regiment  are  now  contented  and  efficient,  illus 
trating  my  statement,  that  the  only  trouble  was  the  want 
of  pay.  All  those  questions  of  enlistment,  &c.,  have  died 
out.  They  never  had  any  real  hold  on  the  men,  but  were 
a  form  of  grumbling.  The  change  was  abrupt  and  sud 
den.  The  paymaster  came  like  a  sunbeam.  Good  by. 
Love  to  all." 

"  PLEASANT  HILL,  CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN, 
September  4,  1861. 

"  A  picture  !  Life  is  but  a  series  of  them.  Stand  on  a 
hill  just  above  the  creek.  Let  Major-General  Banks,  with 
all  his  wwwon,  -wwtried,  not  to  say  uncomfor table  or  unfit, 
glories,  be  by  your  side.  It  is  evening ;  you  are  at  head 
quarters.  The  General  will  say,  in  full,  deep  tones,  (  A  fine 
sight,  Madam.'  You  will  have  anticipated  his  platitude ; 
for  you  will  find  your  eye  filled  with  blazing  camp-fires  and 
bright-lighted  tents,  on  every  hillside  within  the  circle  of 
which  you  are  a  centre.  Your  ear  will  listen  to  the  bands 
playing  in  every  camp.  The  distance  softens  and  harmonizes 
their  discords.  You  have  seen  the  camps  at  evening. 

"  A  night's  rest  under  the  tent,  with  two  blankets  and  a 
bundle  of  straw  extemporized  into  a  bed,  is  a  second  picture. 
Your  dream  is  interrupted  by  a  clang  of  kettle  and  bass 
drums.  It  is  the  infernal  reveille  of  the  Indiana  Twelfth. 
Presently  you  hear  a  clear  rattle  and  shrill  fife,  and  recog- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D  WIGHT.  93 

nize  the  reveille*  of  the  drum-major  of  the  Massachusetts 
Second.  Follow  it  with  your  ear.  You  will  see  how  it  is 
measured.  A  little  practice  teaches  the  soldier  at  what 
point  to  open  his  eyes,  when  to  throw  back  his  blanket,  and, 
at  the  moment,  he  is  in  ranks  at  the  last  ruffle  of  the  drum. 
Regiments  are  known  by  their  reveille's,  you  may  say.  But 
if  you  have  obeyed  the  call,  you  will  be  looking  upon  the 
camps  in  the  first  glimmering  of  sunrise.  You  will  glance 
at  the  old  moon,  in  its  second  childhood  almost  as  graceful 
as  its  first.  You  will  see  the  men  swarming  from  their 
tents  into  ranks.  In  half  an  hour  the  hills  are  alive  with 
moving  columns,  and  you  are  watching  the  morning  drill. 

"  It  is  afternoon.  You  have  come  to  visit  the  camp  of  the 
Massachusetts  Second.  The  General  had  at  once  pointed  it 
out  last  evening.  You  then  admired  the  regularity  of  its 
form.  You  now  admire  the  neatness  and  order  that  you  find 
within. 

"  You  go  out  in  front  and  look  over  at  the  opposite  hill, 

where  the Regiment  is  in  camp.  The  officer  of  the 

day  in  our  camp  is  administering  a  punishment.  The 
court-martial  had  sentenced  a  drunken  and  insubordinate 
fellow  to  be  tied  to  a  tree  for  one  hour  three  successive  days. 

There  he  is  tied.  The Regiment  catch  sight  of  him. 

At  once,  in  a  disorderly  mob,  they  rush  to  the  edge  of  their 
hill.  They  cry, '  Cut  him  down ! '  they  groan  and  yell  against 
us.  Our  guard  is  called  out.  Their  officers  cannot  restore 
order,  though  they  succeed  in  keeping  their  men  within 
their  lines.  The  punishment  is  concluded.  Not  a  man  in 
our  lines  stirs  or  speaks.  You  have  contrasted  the  disci 
pline  of  the  two  regiments.  You  have  seen  pictures  enough, 
because  you  want  to  hear  more  of  this  one.  Colonel  Gor 
don,  as  Acting  Brigadier,  directs  the  arrest  of  the  ring 
leaders  of  the Regiment,  and  of  their  officer  of  the  day. 

The  next  morning,  to  wit,  yesterday,  the  3d  September, 
Colonel comes  to  ask  that  the  man  may  be  tied  some 
where  wThere  the  regiment  which  he  is  commanded  ly  cannot 


94  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

see  him.  Colonel  Gordon  says,  No.  General  Banks,  on 
being  consulted  by  Colonel  Gordon,  directs  him  to  go  on. 
'  Discipline  must  be  maintained,'  says  the  General.  Colonel 

then  goes  to  General  Banks,  and,  by  what  persuasion 

we  know  not,  wheedles  out  of  him  a  recommendation  to 
Colonel  Gfordon  that  the  punishment  be  inflicted  with  less 
4  publicity.'  This  recommendation  comes  just  before  the 
time  for  the  punishment.  General  Banks  cannot  be  found 
in  season  to  give  any  explanation  of  his  written  recom 
mendation.  Colonel  Gordon  makes  up  his  mind  to  tie  the 
man  in  the  same  place  and  in  the  same  way,  come  what 
may.  It  is  done  without  trouble.  But  the  recommenda 
tion  from  head-quarters  has  shaken  our  confidence.  This 
illustrates  the  difficulties  under  which  discipline  is  main 
tained.  We  are  the  only  regiment  that  attempts  it,  and 
even  the  officers  among  our  neighbors  discountenance  the 
severity  which  alone  insures  our  discipline.  But  our  men 
are  getting,  every  day,  a  better  tone.  They  pride  them 
selves  on  the  obvious  contrast  between  their  regiment  and 
the  others.  They  submit  to  the  rules  out  of  which  this 
contrast  comes.  But  the  fact  that  the  other  regiments  do 
as  they  please  aggravates  our  difficulties  and  endangers  our 
success.  We  are  beginning  to  long  for  the  direct  command 
of  McClellan,  who  would  sustain  our  system  without  fear, 
favor,  or  affection.  A  political  education  does  not  favor  the 
direct  disregard  of  consequences  which  belongs  to  military 
command.  Yet  I  do  not  wish  to  complain  of  General  Banks. 
I  think  he  means  well,  but  I  fear  that  he  lacks  a  little  either 
of  education  or  confidence  to  push  things  through. 

"  I  have  been  working  away  at  the  deficiencies  of  our 
commissariat.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  its  condition  is 
disgraceful.  No  organization,  and  not  even  accidental  and 
disproportioned  abundance,  in  any  direction.  A  general 
short  commons.  This  we  hope  to  remedy.  But  I  do  not 
make  much  progress.  In  fact,  General  Banks's  division  is 
not  officered  in  the  Quartermaster  and  Subsistence  Depart- 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF  WILDER    DWIGHT.  95 

ments  as  it  should  be.  But  enough  of  this.  We  are  get 
ting  on  well,  and  I  only  grumble  because  we  might  do  so 
much  better.  To-day,  again,  the  man  shall  be  tied  to  the 
tree. 

"  Yesterday  morning  we  had  a  visit  from  General  Reed, 
Albert  Brown,  the  Governor's  Secretary,  and  Mr.  Dalton, 
the  Massachusetts  Agent.  They  seemed  pleased  with  what 
they  saw.  But  they  only  made  a  flying  visit.  They 
brought  no  news  from  home,  but  they  brought  the  tale  of 
Butler's  achievement.  4  That 's  the  talk,'  say  I.  '  Give  'em 
unexpected  droppings  in  all  along  shore.  Scatter  them 
with  vague  dread.  Make  'em  constantly  ask,  "  What  '11 
come  next  ?  "  General  Butler  is  in  luck.  He  has  n't  got 
a  big  lamp,  but  he  brings  it  out  after  dark.  In  the  night 
that  surrounded  Washington  in  April,  he  appeared  with  his 
farthing  candle :  men  thought  it  a  sun !  Now,  again, 
when  the  public  longs  for  a  glimmer  of  achievement,  he 
strikes  a  light,  and  men  are  dazzled  by  even  so  small  a 
blaze.  Verily,  opportunity  has  served  him.  But  the  move 
is  in  the  right  direction,  and  I  applaud  vehemently.  I  am 
just  informed  that  the  mail  goes  immediately,  and  must 
close  my  letter.  We  hear  of  a  large  mail  on  its  way  from 
Washington,  and  hope  to  get  it  to-morrow.  It  is  nearly  a 
week  since  I  had  a  letter ;  but  if  men  will  go  to  Darnestown 
they  must  take  the  consequences.  Love  to  all." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN, 
September  6,  1861. 

"  DEAR  HOWARD,  —  Advice  is  cheap.  When  lost  it  goes 
to  the  moon,  according  to  the  old  superstition,  and  does  no 
harm.  Hear  mine.  General  Fremont  is  on  his  way  to 
Memphis.  As  sure  as  sunrise  he  will  go  there.  Go  with 
him.  Now  is  the  opportunity  for  adventure,  for  success. 
Energy  and  aptitude  are  in  demand.  This  autumn  they  will 
bear  fruit.  The  wheel  is  entitled  to  every  man's  shoulder  ; 
offer  yours.  In  other  words,  pack  your  trunk,  take  a  few 


96  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

letters  of  introduction  and  authentication  from  the  Gover 
nor  and  others,  go  to  Fremont,  tell  him  you  wish  to  serve 

in  his  army You  will  do  yourself  credit,  and  be  in 

the  midst  of  some  of  the  most  brilliant  achievements  of  the 
war.  I  have  said  my  say,  after  reflection,  and  from  a  near 
view  of  the  field. 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  WILDER  DWIGHT. 

"To  LIEUTENANT  HOWARD  DWIGHT." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN, 

Saturday,  September  7,  1861. 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  Twice  within  three  days  we  have  been 
abruptly  summoned  to  get  into  marching  array.  Twice 
has  the  order  been  countermanded.  This  morning  at  three 
o'clock  I  was  waked  to  open  my  eyes  upon  the  misty  star 
light  by  an  orderly  from  head-quarters. 

"  He  brought  the  order :  '  The  enemy  have  broken  up 
their  camp  at  Manassas,  and  are  moving.  Get  everything 
in  readiness  to  start.  If  a  signal-light  is  exhibited  at  head 
quarters,  let  the  long  roll  be  beaten  and  the  regiment  get 
under  arms  at  once.'  Colonel  Gordon  is  in  Washington. 
Colonel  Andrews  gave  quietly  the  necessary  orders,  and 
then  both  he  and  I  composed  ourselves  to  sleep.  We  have 
learnt  that  excitement  is  useless  and  unprofitable.  Besides, 
composure  is  so  graceful,  and  withal  comfortable,  at  that 
hour.  But,  seriously,  these  successive  alarms  have  become 
the  habit  of  our  lives.  One  of  these  days  perchance  the  wolf 
will  come.  But  this  morning  there  are  no  new  orders,  and 
no  immediate  prospect  of  a  start.  Movement  must  come, 
however,  shortly,  and  I  confess  I  am  impatient  for  its  com 
ing.  Just  now,  perhaps,  I  can  be  content  to  wait.  My 
horse  did  me  the  ill  turn  to  fall  with  me  the  other  day.  I 
was  urging  him  hastily  down  hill,  and  he  stumbled  and  went 
down.  He  chafed  my  leg  a  little,  and  so  I  am  lying  still 
to-day  to  get  well.  To-morrow  both  he  and  I  will  be  firmly 
on  our  legs  again,  and  it  may  well  happen  that  we  shall  both 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  97 

need  them.  I  was  sorry  to  hear  of  your  cold.  It  is  such 
a  bad  companion  for  August.  You  should  come  and  live 
in  a  tent,  and  then  you  would  cease  to  have  any  of  the  ills 
that  follow  close  rooms,  warm  beds,  coal  fires,  and  the  other 

accidents  of  civilized  life  in  times  of  peace It  is  a 

sultry  morning,  and  the  air  moves  listlessly  through  my 
tent.  I  am  reclining  orientally,  and  the  Doctor  has  just 
been  making  an  application  to  my  bruise.  He  has  also  been 
chatting  pleasantly  for  half  an  hour,  and  so  has  broken  what 
little  thread  belonged  to  my  story.  It  is  well  that  it  is  so, 
for  the  life  of  the  past  few  days  does  not  need  a  chronicler. 
We  all  expect  something  coming,  but  do  not  know  what  or 
when.  I  confess  I  enjoy  a  few  days  for  the  study  of  tactics 
and  attention  to  military  matters.  The  theory  slips  out  of 
sight  in  the  tread-mill  of  daily  duty. 

I  glanced  at  an  article  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  this  morn 
ing  on  'The  Advantages  of  Defeat.'  I  cannot  agree  to  its 
positions.  American  soldiers,  —  let  the  fact  be  plainly 
stated,  —  American  soldiers  will  only  become  efficient  in 
proportion  'as  they  abandon  their  national  theories  and 
give  themselves  up  obediently  to  the  military  laws  which 
have  always  governed  the  successful  prosecution  of  war. 
'  The  incurable  habit  of  insubordination  of  the  citizen,' 
as  the  Saturday  Review  has  it,  in  a  capital  article,  '  cannot 
be  transferred  to  the  soldier.'  To-day  our  army  is  crip 
pled  by  the  ideas  of  equality  and  independence  which  have 
colored  the  whole  life  of  our  people.  Men  elect  their  offi 
cers,  and  then  expect  them  to  behave  themselves !  Obe 
dience  is  permissive,  not  compelled,  and  the  radical  basis 
is  wrong.  We  have  to  struggle  against  the  evil  tenden 
cies  of  this  contagion.  When  this  defect  is  cured,  and  men 
recognize  authority  and  obey  without  knowing  why,  —  obey 
from  habit  and  instinct,  not  from  any  process  of  reasoning 
or  presumed  consent,  —  we  shall  begin  to  get  an  army.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  appreciate  the  fact  that,  in  war,  one  will 
must  act  through  all  the  others,  to  see  that  American  sol- 

7 


98  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

diers,  with  all  their  presumed  intelligence  and  skill,  have 
the  one  lesson  yet  to  learn.  So  for  my  preachment.  Here 
appears  Colonel  Gordon,  returned  suddenly  from  Washing 
ton.  The  enemy  are  moving  somewhither,  and  of  course 

he  rejoins  his  regiment The  obvious  weaknesses  of 

delay  may  drive  the  Rebels  to -offensive  action.  •  If  so,  Heaven 
send  them  across  the  river  between  us  and  Washington,  so 
that  we  may  have  a  part  in  the  great  battle  that  crushes 
them.  And  yet  I  cannot  believe  that  any  such  chance  will 
come  to  us.  Speculation,  however,  is  worthless,  on  a  mat 
ter  which  will  have  decided  itself  long  before  the  speculation 
can  reach  you." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  September  10,  1861, 
Camp  near  Darnestown. 

"  I  have  had  a  day  or  two  of  horizontal  contemplation, 
enforced  by  my  leg,  but  now  I  am  well  again,  and  about 
resuming  '  active  operations  in  the  field.'  You  cannot 
expect  that  I  should  give  you  any  stirring  news,  and  had  I 
been  on  my  legs  it  would  only  have  been  for  purposes  of 
drill  and  discipline.  After  three  days  of  scare,  we  subside. 
We  keep  two  days'  rations  cooked,  ready  for  a  march,  and 
there  comes  to  us  every  day  fresh  evidence  that  the  enemy 
are  active.  Their  plan,  of  course,  we  do  not  know,  and  I 
have  wasted  so  many  good  hours  in  trying  to  guess  that  I 
now  give  it  up.  I  have  had,  for  three  or  four  days,  a  chance 
to  read  and  study  quietly,  —  a  thing  which  has  not  before 
occurred  to  me  since  I  began  this  enterprise,  in  April  last. 
I  have  enjoyed  and  improved  it,  and  mean  to  get  time  al 
ways  for  some  of  it.  Yet  it  is  not  easy,  in  the  midst  of  all 
the  active,  practical  duties  of  a  life,  to  secure  chances  for 
study  and  thought,  and  I  have  been  glad  of  this 

"  Colonel  Andrews,  who  is  in  command,  is  full  of  life  and 
energy.  The  want  of  progress  and  growtli  in  everything 
military  is  a  sore  trial  to  him.  He  works  hard  for  the  regi 
ment,  and  wishes  every  stroke  to  tell.  I  think  we  do  grow 
better,  but  when  you  understand  fully  what  a  regiment 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  99 

ought  to  be,  and  ought  to  be  capable  of  doing,  you  see  that 
we  are  a  long  way  off  from  our  goal.  '  Peas  upon  the 
trencher,'  breakfast-call,  has  just  beaten,  and  here  comes 
Colonel  Andrews  to  go  to  breakfast." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  September  12,  1861, 
Thursday  Morning. 

"  Yes  !  There  they  go  again  !  Home,  sweet  home  !  And 
then  the  maddening  suggestion  of  pleasures  and  palaces  ! 
If  our  band  were  malicious  and  impish,  could  they  insist 
upon  a  more  discontenting  theme  ?  Yet,  as  sure  as  there 
comes  a  chill,  cloudy,  morose  morning,  the  band  come  out 
to  guard-mounting,  and  fill  the  air  with  sighings  after  home, 
<fcc.  Now  they  change  ;  it  is  Hail  Columbia,  happy  land  ! 
Is  there  not  a  bitterness  of  satire  in  that,  even,  which  alloys 
the  patriotic  associations  of  the  melody  ?  Columbia  seems 
anything  but  a  happy  land  just  now,  in  the  midst  of  rebellion 
and  treason.  But  the  music  kindles  one,  after  all.  It  is 
the  morning  that  is  out  of  tune,  or  myself,  perhaps.  A  raw 
and  bitter  night, — rainy  and  chill.  The  tents  blowing  down, 
the  rain  blowing  in,  dripping  visitors  in  india-rubber  gar 
ments  sitting  down  on  your  bed,  a  spluttering  candle  flicker 
ing  out,  and  leaving  you  hopelessly  in  the  dark,  a  new  pool 
surprising  your  slipper,  a  sudden  freshet  carrying  away  your 
dressing-case,  the  quick,  sharp  rattle  and  tattoo  of  the  rain 
drops,  and  the  tent  fluttering  with  every  gusty  squall,  sleep 
precarious  and  uncertain.  At  last  reveille',  and  a  hoarse, 
damp  i  Good  morning '  from  the  Doctor,  who  speculates 
grimly,  in  the  next  tent,  upon  the  folly  of  getting  up.  Yet 
we  do  get  up,  and  after  breakfast  I  sit  down  to  write  to  the 
tune  of  home.  '  Sich,'  as  the  Doctor  is  fond  of  saying,  Ms 
life  ;  and,  more  particularly,  camp  life.'  I  happen  to  have  a 
delicious  bit  of  romance  for  you  to-day ;  and  as  the  sun  is 
getting  warmer,  and  the  rain  is  drying  up,  I  may  get  cheer 
ful  by  telling  it.  The  Chaplain  appeared  yesterday  with  the 
confidential  narrative  that  he  had  been  performing  an  un- 


100  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

common  ceremony.  In  a  word,  he  had  married  a  couple  ! 
'  Who  was  the  bridegroom  ? '  asks  Colonel  Andrews,  who 

is  still  in  command.    '  Sergeant .'    It  then  appeared  that 

the  bride  came  out  from  Massachusetts  to  be  married,  and 
it  had  all  been  '  fixed,'  as  they  phrase  it,  in  a  house  near  the 
camp  that  morning,  a  few  hours  after  her  arrival.  The 
Sergeant  was  to  remain  true  to  his  duty,  and  the  new  wife 
was  to  return  by  the  next  day's  stage.  But  the  romance 
goes  farther.  The  true  love  had  met  other  ripples  in  its 
flow.  Malice  traduced  the  Sergeant  last  spring  to  his 
enslaver.  She  gave  him  up,  and  '  he  went,  and  in  despair 
enlisted  for  a  soldier.'  The  truth  came  at  last  to  the  maid 
en's  mind,  and  her  meditations  were  no  longer  '  fancy  free.' 
She  loved  her  lost  Sergeant  more  than  ever,  and  so  out  she 
came,  and  said  so  plump  and  fairly,  once  for  all,  to  the 
parson,  and  they  were  a  happy  pair  again.  The  Colonel 
expressed  some  doubt  to  the  Chaplain,  whether  it  was  pre 
cisely  according  to  military  discipline  to  get  married  in 
camp,  but  did  not  take  a  rigid  view  of  it.  Soon  after,  the 
Sergeant  appeared  at  the  Colonel's  tent.  '  I  should  like  a 
leave  of  absence  for  three  hours,  sir.'  '  What  for,  Ser 
geant  ? '  '  To  see  a  friend,  sir.'  '  Can't  your  friend  come 
here  ? '  l  No,  sir,  not  very  well.'  i  Do  you  want  to  be 
away  as  long  as  that  ?  '  (severely).  4  Yes,  sir,  I  should  like 
two  or  three  hours'  (timidly).  '  Sergeant,'  said  the  Colonel, 
with  a  twinkle  —  a  benevolent  twinkle  —  in  his  eye,  '  I  think 
I  know  who  your  friend  is.  Would  n't  you  like  to  be  gone 
till  to-morrow  morning  ?  '  '  Yes,  sir,  I  should,  sir.'  '  Well, 
you  've  been  a  faithful  man,  and  you  may.'  Sich,  again,  is 
life,  but  not  often  camp  life. 

"  I  am  busy  on  court-martial,  having  been  appointed 
President  of  the  General  Court-Martial  of  this  division,  — 
that  is,  having  been  designated  as  senior  officer.  We  sit  in 
the  morning,  and  I  am  amused  to  see  how  kindly  I  take  to 
the  forms  of  law  again.  I  am  getting  quite  well  again  of 
my  bruise,  but  it  is  good  easy  work  for  a  lame  man.  We 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  101 

do  not  know  when  we  may  move,  but  I  am  getting  to  think 
that  orders  must  come  pretty  soon  now. 

"  We  had  a  visit  from  General  Banks  yesterday  before  the 
rain  began.  The  General  visited  our  kitchens,  and  tasted, 
with  apparent  approval,  my  doughnuts.  I  say  mine,  be 
cause  I  regard  as,  perhaps,  the  most  successful  endeavor  of 
my  military  life,  the  general  introduction  of  doughnuts  into 
the  regiment.  It  you  could  have  seen  the  helplessness  in 
which  the  flour  ration  left  us,  and  the  stupidity  of  the  men 
in  its  use,  you  would  hail;  as  the  dawn,  the  busy  frying  of 
doughnuts  which  goes  on  here  now.  Two  barrels  is  a  small 
allowance  for  a  company.  They  are  good  to  carry  in  the 
haversack,  and  i  stick  by  a  feller  on  the  march.'  And 
when  the  men  have  not  time  to  build  an  oven,  as  often 
they  have  not,  the  idea  is  invaluable.  Pots  of  beans  baked 
in  holes  in  the  ground,  with  a  pan  of  brown  bread  on  top,  is 
also  a  recent  achievement,  worthy  of  Sunday  morning  at  an 
old  Exeter  boarding-house.  The  band  produced  that  agree 
able  concord  yesterday,  and  contributed  from  their  success 
to  my  breakfast.  Our  triumphs,  just  now,  are  chiefly  cu 
linary  ;  but  an  achievement  of  that  kind  is  not  to  be  de 
spised.  '  A  soldier's  courage  lies  in  his  stomach,'  said 
Frederick  the  Great.  And  I  mean  that  the  commissary  of 
our  division  and  the  commissary  of  our  regiment,  and  the 
captains  and  the  cooks,  shall  accept  the  doctrine  and  apply 
its  lessons,  if  I  can  make  them 

"  By  the  way,  do  you  know  that  I  have  grown  the  most 
alarming  beard  of  modern  times  ?  I  am  inclined  to  think 
it  must  be  so.  It  has  the  true  glare  of  Mars,  and  is,  I  flat 
ter  myself,  warlike,  though  not  becoming.  I  have  forborne 
allusion  to  it  in  the  tenderness  of  its  youth  and  the  uncer 
tainty  of  its  hue,  but  now  that  it  has  taken  on  full  pro 
portions  and  color,  I  announce  it  to  you  as  a  decided 
feature. 

"  Dr. may  be  a  good  reasoner,  but  he  can't  reason 

the  Secession  army  into  winter-quarters  in  Philadelphia. 


102  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

There  is  no  real  cause  for  depression.  Subduing  rebellion, 
conquering  traitors,  in  short,  war,  is  the  work  of  soldiers. 
Soldiers  are  a  product  of  time,  and  so  it  comes  that  our 
mad  impatience  of  delay  is  chastised  by  disaster.  In  the 
fulness  of  time,  we  shall  wipe  out  this  Southern  army,  as 
surely  as  the  time  passes.  But  we  have  got  to  work  for  it 
instead  of  talking  about  it.  That  is  all.  Between  the  be 
ginning  of  this  letter  and  the  end  is  a  course  of  the  sun. 
It  has  been  scratched  at  intervals,  and  now  I  look  out  of 
my  tent  on  a  glorious  sunset,  and  the  music  is  just  begin 
ning  for  parade." 

"  PLEASANT  HILL,  CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN, 
September  15,  1861,  Sunday. 

"  At  regular  intervals  I  am  prompted  to  my  pen,  rather 
by  the  desire  to  think  of  you  at  home,  than  by  the  con 
sciousness  of  any  story  to  tell.  It  is  called  a  hot  day  to 
day.  I  found  Colonel  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  

at  Poolesville  this  morning  in  a  state  of  intense  glow,  and 
crying  out  at  the  heat.  I  find  it  comfortable,*  and  consider 
anything  short  of  boiling  water  my  natural  element.  The 
force  of  habit  is  so  strong  that  my  summer  on  the  Potomac 
has  fitted  me  for  tropical  life 

"  Colonel told  us  that  he  had  been  down  the  river 

this  morning,  and  taken  a  look  at  the  enemy's  picket  on  the 
other  side.  And  a  short  conversation  took  place  between 
our  picket  and  theirs  as  to  the  relative  forces  and  skill,  &c. 
This  disgusted  Colonel  Andrews,  who  tersely  expressed  the 
opinion,  c  When  you  see  an  enemy,  shoot  him'  The  shoot 
ing  of  pickets  seems  to  have  been  voted  by  respectable 
authorities  to  be  barbarous.  Why,  I  cannot  see.  It 
amounts  to  this :  If  you  don't  shoot,  they  can  post  their 
men  securely  where  they  please,  and  thus  attain,  without 
risk,  the  advantages  of  outlook  and  guard  which  they  de 
sire.  If  you  do  shoot,  they  can't  choose  their  position,  nor 
readily  secure  their  advantages.  This  seems  to  me  conclu 
sive.  But  humanity  is  a  very  vague  term  when  applied  to 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  103 

war.  And  we  handle  these  questions  very  differently  from 

the  way  in  which  we  shall  if  the  war  lasts We  are 

looking  for  a  visit  and  review  from  McClellan.  That  will 
be  an  incident,  and  well  worth  while.  The  fact  is,  General 
Banks  has  been  gradually  stripped  of  his  column.  General 
Stone,  a  regular  officer,  has  been  given  a  separate  division 
at  Poolesville,  and  many  of  the  best  officers  have  been  with 
drawn  from  us.  General  Banks  is  left  without  a  staff.  Has 

lost  much  of  his  artillery  and  cavalry If  it  were  not 

that  I  believe  that  whatever  is  is  right,  and  that  docile  sub 
mission  is  the  best  wisdom,  I  should  regret  belonging  to  this 
division,  as  it  seems  just  outside  of  the  work.  But  I  am 
perfectly  content  with  things  as  they  are.  When  the  time 
comes  I  hope  it  will  find  us  ready. 

"  McClellan  does  n't  believe  in  fresh-sprouted  major-gen 
erals.  That 's  clear. 

"  I  guess  we  shall  see  him  in  a  day  or  two,  and  then 
perhaps  he  will  open  the  path  to  glory  to  us.  He  keeps  the 
gates 

"  Coffee-roaster  has  arrived,  and  is  merrily  at  work.  This 
is  a  comfort.  Tell  father  he  is  the  regiment's  friend,  and  I 
bless  him.  Colonel  Andrews  says  that  I  love  the  Second 
Regiment  first,  and  my  country  next.  Perhaps  it  is  true. 
At  all  events,  I  care  only  for  its  success  at  present.  The 
call  is  beating  for  parade,  and  the  sun  is  setting.  Good  by." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  September  16,  1861. 

"  I  got  a  letter  from  you  this  morning  dated  Saturday, 
and  full  of  regret  that  I  don't  get  your  letters.  Why,  I  do. 
Only  they  come  irregularly.  Since  the  gap  caused  by  your 
cold,  I  have  had  my  regular  journal  to  cheer  and  alleviate 
my  life.  So  don't  be  discouraged,  and  above  all,  don't  think 
that  you  are  writing  to  the  Dead  Letter  Office.  You  need 

not  say  so  to ,  but  it  would  overtax  my  magnanimity 

to  write  to  any  one  in  England  our  news.  Their  fog  must 
envelop  them.  i  Can't  understand  affairs  in  this  country/ 


104  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

is  it  ?  They  don't  try.  %  It  is  a  plain  case  enough.  The 
South  has  been  organizing  a  villanous  conspiracy  for  two 
years.  It  is  suddenly  born,  full-armed,  as  Minerva.  We 
are  just  organizing  our  crushing  power  to  put  it  down.  Let 
England  wait  patiently,  and  we  will  show  them  that  we  are 
a  nation,  after  all.  Till  then  it  is  idle  to  attempt  to  per 
suade  their  darkness  into  light. 

"  Our  court-martial  goes  on  bravely.  We  hope  to  get 
through  to-morrow,  or  next  day.  But  the  cases  accumulate 
so  rapidly  in  proportion  to  our  speed  of  trial,  that  we  do  not 
get  the  docket  clear  yet.  I  was  prevented,  yesterday,  from 
going  on  a  secret  and  confidential  duty  by  the  fact  of  the 
court-martial.  If  the  telegram  gives  an  account  of  any 
arrests  in  the  vicinage  of  Frederick,  you  may  know  that 
nothing  but  the  fact  of  my  being  actually  engaged  in  an 
other  service  prevented  my  taking  charge  of  a  part  of  that 
enterprise.  I  cannot  properly  speak  more  plainly  of  the 
matter,  but  events  will  probably  illustrate  my  meaning,  and 
you  will  see  that  we  mean  to  have  Maryland  under  our 
thumb  completely.  1  confess  that  I  should  have  enjoyed 
the  duty  that  I  was  likely  to  engage  in  ;  but  a  soldier  has  no 
choice.  Every  vigorous  move  of  the  Federal  authority  does 
good.  We  are  in  the  midst  of  traitors,  and  indeed  there 
is  no  loyalty  except  conditional  loyalty  in  the  Slave  States. 
The  Baltimore  arrests  are  a  capital  move.  Our  life  is 
excited  by  rumors  of  a  movement  by  the  enemy.  I  suppose 
the  fact  is  thus.  If  the  Rebels  attack,  they  will  cross  be 
tween  us  and  Harper's  Ferry.  Any  movement  by  them 
will  threaten  our  division,  which  I  hope  they  mean  to 
strengthen.  The  circumstance  of  McClellan's  turning  his 
attention  to  us  indicates  this  as  his  opinion.  I  am  slow  to 
believe  that  they  will  cross  anywhere.  If  they  do,  we  shall 
have  to  be  the  first  to  oppose  them. 

"  A  direct  attack  on  Washington  cannot  offer  them  any 
attraction.  I  can  imagine  how  strong  the  pressure  is  upon 
them  to  make  a  move,  and  yet  I  think  they  have  not  the 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  105 

power  to  make  it,  with  any  chance  of  success.  We  shall 
see.  The  sun  has  come  out  glaringly,  and  now  we  have 
a  threatening  thunder-storm  coming. 

"  The  coffee-roaster  is  lovely,  and  wins  golden  opinions. 
At  last,  also,  we  have  tea,  and,  indeed,  we  have  waked  up 
our  commissary  to  something  like  activity.  .  .  ;  . 

"  I  am  glad  Charley  is  going  to  the  war.  It  will  make  a 
man  of  him.  Love  to  all." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  September  19,  1861. 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should  write  you  a  letter,  ex 
cept  that  Captain  Abbott  is  going  to  Washington  and  can 
carry  it.  With  such  a  motive,  let  me  say,  then,  that  all  goes 
well  with  us.  That  the  weather  is  certainly  the  most  trying 
in  the  world,  —  hot,  bright,  damp-aired,  blazing  days.  Cold, 
heavy,  foggy,  shivering  nights.  If  we  don't  have  chills  and 
fever  it  will  be  because  we  take  good  care  of  ourselves, 
which  we  try  to  do.  The  regiment  is  all  right,  and  im 
proves.  My  court-martial  drags  along  a  lazy  and  feeble 
existence.  It  does  severe  military  justice  upon  offenders, 
and  one  duty  is  as  well  as  another,  though  now  that  I  am 
on  my  legs  again,  I -should  like  to  resume  regular  regimental 
life  once  more. 

"  Our  officers,  and  indeed  the  regiment  itself,  are  very  im 
patient  of  the  quietness  of  this  life ;  but  there  is  no  other 
way.  You  would  like  to  see  the  ovens  that  the  men  have 
built  of  mud  and  straw  and  stones,  with  the  fires  blazing 
from  their  wide  mouths.  You  would  like  to  see  the  rich 
brown  coffee  come  out  of  my  roaster.  In  short,  you  would 
like  to  see  plenty  reign  as  it  now  does,  since  the  men  have 
got  nothing  to  think  of  but  how  to  feed  themselves.  But 
if  you  thought  again,  how  little  we  are  doing  to  teach  men 
to  take  care  of  themselves  on  the  march  and  in  active 
duty,  you  would  see  that  we  are  still  lame,  and  probably 
shall  be  for  many  months,  until  experience  has  rubbed  its 
lessons  into  the  memory  and  habits  of  both  officers  and  men. 


106  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  I  do  not  know  why  I  write  this,  except  that  such  prob 
lems  and  results  are  constantly  occupying  my  mind. 

"  You  see  the  exploit  at  Frederick  did  not  amount  to 
much.  The  government  alarmed  the  Legislature  by  mak 
ing  arrests  in  Baltimore,  and  by  sending  up  policemen,  so 
that  what  promised  to  be  quite  a  Cromwellian  stroke  was 
only  the  seizure  of  a  few  straggling  legislators,  who  were 
frightened  before  they  were  hurt.  Secessionism,  however,  is 
dead  in  Maryland. 

" has  returned,  disappointed  that  he  did  not  bag 

more  game.  I,  who  was  going  with  him,  as  I  mentioned  in 
my  last  letter,  on  this  secret  expedition  to  Frederick,  am 
consoled  since  the  result  was  no  larger." 

"  September  26. 

"  Cold  weather  seems  to  have  set  in  upon  us.  I  hope  our 
Rebel  brothers  the  other  side  of  the  Potomac  are  suffering 
the  same  cold  nights  that  we  have.  Such  weather  will  do 
more  to  drive  them  from  Manassas  than  much  artillery. 

"  There  is  a  lull  now.  0  for  a  tempest !  I  am  glad 
Howard  seems  likely  to  accomplish  his  best  object.  Had  he 
not  better  use  a  day  in  a  visit  to  me  on  his  way  West  ? " 

"  PLEASANT  HILL,  CAMP  NEAR  DARNESTOWN, 

September  27,  1861. 

"  A  dark,  dull,  rainy  day  without,  a  calm,  quiet,  cosey 
tent  within.  At  peace  with  ourselves,  and  apparently  with 
all  mankind.  Such  is  this  Friday  morning. 

"  Yesterday  *  was  a  grand  day  for  our  army.  The  orders 
were  issued  for  its  observance  by  a  grand  division  parade 
and  service,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  the  brigades  moved  to 
Darnestown,  and  formed  in  a  large  field  for  the  service.  Our 
friend  Mr.  Quint  gave  the  address  on  the  occasion.  I  did 
not  go  myself,  being  detained  by  the  combined  influence  of 
a  headache  and  a  court-martial.  The  headache  and  court- 

*  The  President's  Fast  Day. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  107 

martial  have  both  adjourned  to-day,  and  I  think  they  will 
not  be  called  together  again. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  division  looked  very  well  indeed,  and 
that  the  Massachusetts  Second  appeared  bright  beside  the 
other  regiments.  This  is  probably  exactly  true.  We  have 
never  been  drawn  up  to  face  anything  else  except  the  Rev 
erend  Chaplain,  but  it  is  said  that  the  column  stood  his  fire 
like  heroes  ! 

"  The  impression  seems  to  be  gathering  force  that  our 
term  of  inaction  is  drawing  to  a  close.  I  only  hope  that 
when  we  go  across  the  Potomac,  it  will  be  by  a  grand  con 
certed  movement,  which  will  sweep  everything  before  it 
clean.  '  Nulla  vestigia  retrorsum.'  Not  a  single  about  face 
in  the  whole  movement.  I  think  we  have  reason  to  be  glad 
that  our  regiment  is  getting  through  the  chills-and-fever 
season  so  well.  The  place  where  we  are  seems  quite  healthy, 
and  we  suffer  much  less  than  our  neighbors.  By  a  new 
division  of  brigades,  Colonel  Gordon  becomes  the  Senior 
Colonel  of  the  Third  Brigade,  which  makes  him  the  Acting 
Brigadier.  This  puts  Colonel  Andrews  in  command  of  the 
regiment. 

"  I  hope  soon  to  hear  of  Howard's  movements,  and  also 
of  Charley's  coming  on  to  join  William." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  Sunday  Evening,  September  29,  1861, 
Camp  near  Darnestown. 

"  An  opportunity  presents  itself,  this  morning,  to  send  a 
letter,  and  so  I  write,  though  I  have  only  to  tell  you  of  con 
tinued  quiet  and  content. 

"  And,  indeed,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  preserve  that  happy 
mental  and  moral  poise  in  the  midst  of  our  present  dulness. 
I  think,  however,  that  the  regiment  was  never  in  a  state  of 
more  admirable  efficiency  than  it  is  to-day,  and  this  cheers 
and  satisfies  me  when  I  keep  it  in  mind.  It  is  idle,  how 
ever,  to  disguise  the  fact  that  it  is  a  heaviness  to  the  natu 
ral  and  unregenerate  heart  to  see  no  prospect  of  achievement, 
no  opportunity  of  action. 


108  LIFE  AND   LETTERS    OP   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  the  winter  must  not  set  in 
without  deeds  that  give  a  lustre  to  our  flag.  Volunteering, 
is  it,  that  is  wanted  ?  Show  the  volunteer  that  he  enters  on 
the  path  of  victory,  and  the  crowd  will  be  immense. 

"  We  heard  last  night  that  the  report  was  current  that 
our  division  had  cut  the  enemy  to  pieces,  or  was  itself  cut 
to  pieces,  or  something  of  that  sort.  If  so,  and  the  report 
ran  home  by  telegraph,  you  have  had  a  very  needless  alarm. 
Never  was  repose  so  undisturbed  as  ours.  If  you  hear  such 
news  of  us,  reflect  only,  4  It  is  too  good  to  be  true.' 

"  Your  letter  of  the  23d  is  just  received.  I  do  hope 
Howard  will  find  success  in  the  Department  of  the  West. 
There  is  certainly  room  for  him  there,  and  he  has  capacity 
for  the  place.  I  have  just  come  in  from  Sunday-morning 
inspection.  We  need  for  the  regiment  flannel  drawers  and 
flannel  shirts.  Can  you  not  get  up  a  good  package  of  them, 
and  send  them  on  by  Captain  Abbott  ?  I  see  you  ;  peak  of 
shirts  for  the  soldiers." 


LIFE   AM)    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  109 


CHAPTER    VII. 

LETTERS    FROM    WASHINGTON    AND    PLEASANT    HILL    CAMP,  NEAR 
DARNESTOWN. 

"WASHINGTON,  WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  October  2,  1861. 

"  fTHHE  date  will  explain  the  episode  in  my  history,  which 

has  relieved  the  monotony  for  a  day  or  two.     I  rode 

down  here  to  accomplish  some  business  for  the  regiment, 

and  go  back  to-morrow  morning William  and  I  rode 

over  to  the  forts  this  morning.  They  seem  strong  and  un 
inviting.  The  enemy,  however,  will  never  attempt  them. 
The  big  battle  is  not  to  be  fought  behind  the  breastworks 
of  either  party.  In  my  judgment,  the  next  severe  blow  our 
cause  gets  will  be  in  Kentucky,  whither  the  theatre  of  war 
is  moving." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  October  4,  1861, 
Camp  near  Darnestown. 

"  I  am  sitting  up  to-night,  as  field-officer  of  the  day, 
awaiting  the  hour  of  twelve,  when  I  make  my  grand  rounds. 
You  may,  perhaps,  take  a  half-hour  of  my  tediousness.  I 
wrote  a  note  from  Washington.  I  found  William  had 
chosen  me  a  horse,  which,  though  peculiar  to  look  at,  was 
clever  to  go.  In  the  cheerful  phrase  of  the  woman  of  Kan- 
nesch,  '  II  ne  salt  pas  Strejoli  mais  il  est  ban.'9  William  told 
me  he  had  written  for  Charley  to  come  on  to  his  regiment. 
I  hope  Charley  has  already  started.  He  will  learn  more  in 
a  week  in  camp  than  in  a  month  at  home.  Give  him  my 
love,  and  advice  to  push  on  for  camp  with  a  few  good  warm 
clothes  and  a  copy  of  Tactics. 

"  Noboby  seems  even  to  guess  at  McClellan's  plans.  It  is 
against  my  principle  to  believe  in  anything  except  human 
fallibility.  Taking  it  for  granted  that  McClellan  belongs  to 


110  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

the  human  family,  and  that  he  has  got  an  awful  work  before 
him,  and  not  seeing  evidence  of  his  doing  anything  in  par 
ticular,  I  must  say,  my  impatience  gets  the  better  of  my  hope 
now  and  then.  For  instance,  when  I  see  Meigs  advertising 
for  gifts  of  blankets  !  Why,  are  the  whole  government 
asleep  ?  If  not,  why  have  they  not  prepared  for  a  winter 
campaign  ?  The  roll  of  the  seasons  is  a  phenomenon  of 
peace.  That,  surely,  has  not  taken  them  by  surprise. 

"  Again,  the  redundancy  of  brigadiers  disgusts  me. 
What  room  have  they  left  for  distinction  to  those  who  win 
glory  in  the  fight.  These  antecedent  laurels  cheapen  the 
very  warmest  incentive  to  a  soldier's  sacrifices. 

But  enough  of  croaking.  Though,  before  I  leave  it  en 
tirely,  is  not  Fremont's  fizzle  in  Missouri  enough  to  make  a 
saint's  amiability  feather,  at  least,  if  not  absolutely  sour  ? 
When  is  the  luck  to  turn  ?  I  am  writing  in  the  stillness  of 
an  almost  summer  evening,  and  have  got  my  head  full,  as 
you  see,  of  thoughts  that  are  fruitless. 

"  I  rode  back  to  camp  yesterday,  and  found  no  end  of 
work  awaiting  me.  Among  other  things,  I  am  detailed  on 
a  board  of  survey  to  estimate  the  damage  done  to  private 
property  in  our  army's  progress  from  Harper's  Ferry  to  this 
place.  As  I  am  one  of  those  who  do  not  believe  in  paying 
anything,  I  am,  I  suppose,  a  good  officer  for  the  post.  The 
burdens  of  war  ought,  for  the  most  part,  to  rest  where  they 
fall.  At  any  rate,  these  lukewarm,  disloyal  citizens  deserve 
nothing  but  the  strictest  justice. 

"  Colonel  Gordon  is  now  in  command  of  a  brigade,  and 
he  is  acting  the  reformer  and  reviver  with  great  spirit  and 
effect.  Indeed,  it  is  cheerful  to  see  the  progress  our  regi 
ments  are  making  in  discipline  and  drill.  The  Second 
Massachusetts  is  the  example  and  standard  for  the  others. 
General  Banks,  standing  on  the  hill  near  his  head-quarters, 
said  to  a  gentleman  in  my  hearing  yesterday,  '  That,'  point 
ing  to  our  camp,  c  is  the  best  and  neatest  camp  on  the  con 
tinent.'  Words,  I  believe,  of  truth  and  soberness.  My 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGIIT.  Ill 

visit  to  Washington  tended  to  satisfy  me  with  our  regiment. 
Good  night.  I  must  go  out  upon  a  tour  of  sentinel  inspec 
tion,  which  will  last  till  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  A 
soldier's  life  is  always  gay." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  October  7,  1861, 
Camp  near  Darnestown. 

"  '  Turn  out  the  Guard,  Officer  of  the  Day  !  '  Such  has 
been  the  salutation  with  which  again  I  am  greeted  this 
Monday,  on  my  rounds  through  the  brigade.  Our  field- 
officers  are  off  on  leave  of  absence,  and  every  third  day 
brings  this  duty  with  it.  Colonel  Andrews  has  gone  off  to 
Washington  to  see  about  his  appointment.  We  all  hope 
most  strongly  that  he  will  not  accept  it.  Indeed,  the  fear 
that  it  was  coming  has  quite  depressed  me  of  late.  The 
Colonel  is  so  decidedly  the  backbone  of  our  enterprise,  that 
I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  losing  him.  Though  I  suppose 
there  are  some  who  would  have  the  charity  to  suppose  that 
I  would  welcome  promotion.  But  I  think  that  no  one  ever 
received  an  appointment  with  less  of  gratified  ambition,  or 
will  take  a  promotion,  if  come  it  must,  with  less  exultation. 
The  fact  is,  I  foresaw  trial  and  responsibility,  and  did  not 
crave  it.  I  also  deprecated  unwon  laurels  and  insignificant 
titles.  Something  to  work  up  to  is  not  just  the  thing. 
Though,  after  all,  if  one  could  succeed  in  really  growing  to 
the  position,  he  might  well  be  proud. 

"  It  is  eleven  o'clock,  —  a  damp,  rainy,  cheerless  night.  I 
shall  soon  go  forth  on  my  rounds.  The  season  and  sur 
roundings  are  favorable  to  maudlin  reflections,  and  I  fear 
I  am  falling  into  them.  The  next  letter  I  write  I  will  write 
in  glad  sunshine  and  broad  day  ;  not  in  the  flickering  twi 
light  of  a  wind-troubled  candle  ;  but  to-night  you  must  take 
me  after  sundown.  Still,  I  have  cheerful  topics.  The  enemy 
must  soon  move  or  we  must,  and  so  the  briskness  of  enter 
prise  is  near.  Bull  Run  has  given  McClellan  the  liberty  to 
wait  as  long  as  he  pleases  without  interference,  but  he  can 
not  mean  to  lose  October.  As  for  Fremont,  I  wish  him 


112  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

well  for  Howard's  sake  ;  but  the  man  lacks  the  one  thing 
we  want  now, —  success.  Good  reasons  for  failure  are  not 
popular,  though  they  may  be  undeniable 

As  to  stockings  for  the  regiment,  we  are  not  barefoot,  but 
stockings  do  wear  out  easily,  and  a  regiment  uses  a  great 
many,  and  the  government  supplies  slowly.  Do  not,  how 
ever,  give  yourself  up  to  shirts  or  stockings. 

"  Here  it  comes,  raw  and  gusty,  and  pouring  torrents. 
Well,  let  it  rain.  I  think  I  must  give  up  my  grand  rounds 
though,  and,  as  it  is  damp  and  cold,  I  will  bid  you  a  cheer 
ful  good  night,  and  hope  for  a  bright  morning. 

"  It  is  not  so  bright  a  morning  after  all,  but  I  must  be  off 
to  Hyattstown,  to  act  on  a  bpard  of  survey;  and  so  good 
by." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  MARYLAND,  October  9,  1861. 

"  MY  DEAR  FATHER,  —  Your  prompt  and  energetic  kind 
ness  is  truly  splendid.  I  think  one  thousand  pairs  of  stock 
ings  are  enough  for  the  present.  What  we  may  need,  or 
the  government  may  be  able  to  supply  before  spring,  we 
cannot  now  say.  Mrs.  George  Ticknor  writes  to  Colonel 
Gordon  that  a  number  of  ladies  in  Boston  desire  to  form 
an  association  to  supply  the  Second  Regiment  with  whatever 
they  need.  She  will  aid  you  in  the  stocking  direction.  The 
truth  is,  the  government  ought  to  supply  every  real  want 
of  the  soldier.  I  hope  it  will  soon  do  so.  If  it  fail  to  do 
so,  we  must  appeal  to  benevolence  now  and  then.  The 
principle  is  a  bad  one,  however,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  extend 
it  an  inch  beyond  the  immediate  necessity. 

"  One  bad  effect  of  appealing  to  benevolence  is,  that  men 
will  not  be  as  careful  of  things  given  to  them  as  things  paid 
for  by  them. 

"  Some  frost-nipping  compulsion  is  important  to  keep 
them  economical  and  careful. 

"  I  am  quite  anxious  to  hear  about  Howard.  I  do  not  so 
much  care  whether  Fremont  is  a  good  or  bad  general ;  if 
Howard  gets  a  footing  there  he  will  do  well,  and  will  hang 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OP   WILDER   DWIGHT.  113 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  CAMP  NEAR  DABNESTOWN, 
October  9,  1861. 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  wish  I  could  give  you  a  vivid  picture 
of  our  excursion  the  other  day  on  the  board  of  survey.  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Batchelder,  of  the  Thirteenth  Massachusetts, 
and  myself  went  off  to  Hyattstown  to  estimate  damages  done 
by  the  army  there.  The  Quartermaster  Department  gave  us 
a  light  wagon.  We  put  off  our  care  as  we  crossed  the  lines, 
and  left  the  sentinels  behind.  We  drove  to  Hyattstown 
through  a  pleasant  country.  The  heavy  rain  had  swelled 
the  runs  or  brooks  which  cross  the  road,  and  in  our  passage 
over  the  last  one  we  broke  down.  So  we  left  our  wagon 
and  took  another.  On  our  way  back  we  met  the regi 
ment,  Colonel .  The  Colonel  is  a  lawyer  and  member 

of  Congress,  not  a  soldier.  We  saw  the  beauties  of  moral- 
suasive  discipline.  His  men  on  the  march  during  the  storm 
of  the  night  previous  had  broken  their  lines.  The  roadside 
taverns  had  sold  them  whiskey.  The  whole  regiment  was 
drunk.  A  perfect  Pandemonium  was  the  scene  they  pre 
sented.  We  did  what  we  could  to  help  him,  but  when  one 
soldier,  in  quarrelsome  or  pleasant  vein,  shot  another  through 
the  body,  and  a  third  broke  the  head  of  a  fourth  with  the 
butt  of  his  musket,  we  thought  discretion  the  better  part  of 
valor,  and  did  not  wait  to  see  what  the  fifth  would  do.  Gen 
eral  Banks  has  ordered  the  regiment  back,  I  believe,  and 
is  going  to  send  off  another  with  more  discipline  and  less 
whiskey.  The  regiment  had  been  detailed  to  go  to  Wil- 
liamsport  on  special  duty. 

c;  We  drove  on,  and  coming  near  the  plantation  of  Mr. 
.Desellum,  whom  you  recollect  I  have  spoken  of,  we  stopped 
to  dinner.  His  sister,  she  who  sent  me  the  big  bouquet, 
was  at  home.  She  welcomed  us  cordially,  and  we  were 
surrounded  speedily  by  a  dozen  little  darkies  all  of  a  size. 
The  maiden  lady  showed  us  her  flower-garden,  and  \\Grfamity 
of  negroes,  and  her  spinning-room,  in  which  three  spinning- 
wheels  were  busily  twisting  the  yarn  which  she  was  to  weave 


114  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D  WIGHT. 

into  clothes  for  her  negroes.  She  showed  us  also  her  old 
family  linen,  woven  by  her  mother ;  and,  in  fact,  introduced 
us  to  all  the  details  of  farm  life.  Then  she  took  us  into  the 
best  room,  whose  oak  floor  shone  with  scrubbing,  and  whose 
bright  wood-fire  felt  good.  There  we  had  a  dinner,  and  she 
talked  patriotism  ;  the  Colonel  and  myself  listening,  and 
concluding,  as  we  drove  away,  that  we  had  had  an  adven 
ture,  and  found  material  loyalty  in  Maryland. 

"  A  drive  through  the  wood,  across  a  swollen  stream 
whose  bridge  had  gone,  and  whose  depth  made  the  crossing 
an  experiment  of  very  doubtful  success,  brought  us  to  camp 
just  as  the  new  moon  and  evening  star  had  come  brightly 
out  of  the  glow  of  twilight.  There  we  found  Colonel 
Andrews  returned  from  Washington,  having  declined  the 
appointment  of  Adjutant-General,  to  the  great  joy  of  all 
the  regiment. 

"  We  are  rigging  up  very  clever  fireplaces  in  our  tents, 
and  preparing  for  winter; — learning  how  to  be  comfortable, 
which  is,  after  all,  the  great  problem  with  which  my  mind 
engages  itself  in  this  military  campaigning.  It  is  half  the 
battle.  I  hope  we  shall  have  the  other  half  soon." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  MARYLAND,  October  11,  1861. 

"  DEAR  FATHER,  —  I  receive,  this  evening,  your  pleasant 

letter  of  Tuesday.  Also  a  very  kind  one  from  D .  Your 

compliment  from  the  general  commanding  is  certainly  pleas 
ing.  But  do  not  suppose  that  it  indicates  any  success  of 
mine.  Remember  that  the  path  is  a  new  one,  and  be  con 
tent  that  I  shall  learn  its  windings  by  and  by. 

Again,  D 's  letter  indicates  the  idea  that  I  am  likely  to 

be  in  command  here.  You  will  have  learned  that  Colonels 
Gordon  and  Andrews  are  both  still  with  the  regiment.  This 
is  as  it  should  be,  and  as  I  most  strongly  desire :  and  I 
confidently  trust  it  is  as  it  will  be  for  time  to  come  (I  have 
no  wish  to  emulate  the  inexperience  of  colonels  whom  ] 
see  about  me).  And  the  team  as  it  now  is  is  not  too  strong 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  115 

for  the  load.  I  cannot  help  feeling  proud  of  the  regiment. 
It  never  appeared  so  well  as  now.  But  I  have  no  personal 
ambition  about  it,  only  an  intense  longing  for  its  success  as 
a  whole.  I  tell  you,  good  regiments  are  great  creations,  and 
I  wish  we  had  three  hundred  of  them,  as  we  might  have  had 
if  everybody  had  put  in  briskly  at  once,  as  some  of  us  did ; 
but  I  am  overworking  my  text,  as  I  am  apt  to  do  when  I 
get  on  the  regiment. 

"  You  have  succeeded  in  the  stockings,  I  see.  Well!  they 
will  be  a  great  thing  for  us,  only  you  must  let  my  patriotism 
feel  vexed  that  private  aid  should  be  necessary  at  this  point 
of  time.  .  .  . 

"  We  are  building  an  elaborate  stable,  thatched  with  straw, 
for  our  horses,  and  the  officers  are  fitting  up  tents  with  cel 
lars  and  fireplaces,  as  if  we  were  established  for  the  winter. 
I  think,  however,  that  we  shall  hardly  get  4  to  rights?  as 

they  say,  when  the  order  to  move  will  come.  Dr. , 

General  McClellan's  Medical  Director,  said  to  me  last  week, 
*  I  can't  tell  where  you  're  to  be.  What  General  McClellan 
knows,  no  one  else  knows.'  It  speaks  well  for  the  tonic  effect 
of  Bull  Run,  that  the  press  and  people  lie  down  quietly 
under  the  thumb  of  McClellan,  and  bide  his  time." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  MARYLAND,  October  13,  1861. 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  Opie  mixed  his  colors  <  with  brains, 
sir,'  and  with  brains  we  have  just  done  a  clever  thing  near 
Hatteras.  Let  us  keep  the  brains  at  work.  As  for  our  own 
thoughts,  they  were  excited  this  morning  by  an  order  for 
1  two  days'  cooked  rations  in  the  haversack,  and  to  hold 
ourselves  in  readiness  to  march.'  So  we  hold  ourselves 
serenely  and  with  content,  but  I  do  not  fear  any  immediate 
action.  At  last,  however,  with  all  this  cry,  the  wolf  must 
come. 

"  The  paymaster  has  been  here,  and  went  off  yesterday, 
leaving  Uncle  Sam's  paper  money  behind,  instead  of  gold  as 
before. 


116  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

"  It  is  a  bright  and  gusty  day,  and  our  hillside  exposure 
gives  us  the  full  front  to  the  wind.  I  sit  in  my  tent,  this 
Sunday  morning,  and  keep  warm  over  a  pan  of  coals. 

"  I  was  amused,  the  other  day,  at  an  incident  of  my  drive 
with  Colonel  Batchelder.  We  came  across  a  bright-eyed 
little  boy  on  the  road,  his  pockets  bursting  with  chestnuts, 
and  stopped  and  took  him  in,  levying  on  his  chestnuts.  I 
asked  him  if  he  was  for  the  Union.  <  Yes,'  said  he,  with  a 
bright  twinkle,  <  that  I  am.'  «  Why  ? '  said  I.  '  0,'  said  he, 
'  that  old  flag  has  stood  too  long  to  be  pulled  down  now.'  I 
thought  that,  for  a  Maryland  boy's  reason,  was  a  pretty  good 

one I  am  quite  anxious  to  get  my  buffalo-robe, 

which  Spiegel  was  obliged  to  leave  in  Washington,  as  the 
coach  would  not  bring  it.  The  weather  is  growing  colder 
every  day,  as  it  seems.  But  then  we  have  the  cheerful 
confidence  that  we  are  serving  our  country,  you  know, 
which  takes  the  chill  off:" 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  October  14,  1861. 

"  I  was  looking,  last  evening,  at  the  bright  gold  of  the 
western  sky,  and  the  frosty  silver  of  the  evening  star,  and 
was  marking  the  cold  glitter  of  the  moonlight,  when  Mr. 
Spiegel  appeared  with  my  buffalo-robe  in  great  glee.  It 
was  an  opportune  visitor,  and  I  must  not  let  our  quarter 
master  go  to  Washington  without  a  line  of  acknowledgment 
from  me.  Tell  father  that  size  is  anything  but  an  objection. 
I  cannot  hope  to  grow  to  it,  but  I  will  bring  it  to  my  model, 
and  compose  myself  as  comfortably  as  a  warrior  in  his  mar 
tial  cloak.  It  will  be  glorious  o'  nights  when  we  bivouac 
by  camp-fires,  as  I  hope  we  must  soon. 

"  We  have  had  a  glorious  October  day.  Drill  in  the 
morning,  drill  in  the  afternoon.  Questions  of  suttler's 
prices,  of  commissary's  authority  to  settle  rations,  of  quar 
termaster's  allowance  of  stationery,  &c.,  &c.,  <fcc.,  —  the 
family  jars  of  our  little  family.  I  wish  I  could  write  you 
a  letter  about  '  something  in  particular  J  but  just  now  there 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  117 

is  '  nothing  special.'  I  think  the  order  to  cook  rations  and 
hold  ourselves  in  readiness  to  march  came  direct  from 
McClcllan,  and  was  a  precaution  against  an  expected  attack 
or  resistance  by  the  enemy  opposite  Washington.  If  so, 
that  danger  has  blown  over,  and  we  may  lie  still  for  another 
week.  They  have,  however,  in  this  division,  an  organized 
secrecy,  which  covers  everything  with  a  drop-curtain.  I  re 
ceived  yesterday  a  letter  from  Judge  Abbott,  congratulatory 
on  my  expected  promotion.  I  hope  your  ambition  did  not 
wilt  when  you  heard  that  things  stood  still.  It  is  much 
better  for  the  regiment  that  they  should,  and  far  better  for 
me,  and  I  experienced  a  rebound  from  my  quite  decided 
depression  when  I  found  that  the  danger  of  losing  our 
colonels  was  over." 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  October  16,  1861. 

"  I  always  have  an  impulse  to  write  when  I  get  a  letter, 
and  as  yours  of  last  Friday  gladdened  me  this  evening, 
I  am  pen  in  hand  again,  though  without  a  story.  No  ! 
I  have  one,  now  I  think  of  it.  My  maiden  lady  friend  of 
the  spinning-wheel  and  flower-garden  came  to  see  me  to-day. 
She  and  her  brother  in  their  best.  I  gave  them  my  hospi 
talities,  showed  them  the  camp,  &c.,  and  made  them  very 
content.  They  are  full  of  patriotic  ardor.  Its  form  of 
expression  is  various.  The  good  lady  brought  me  to-day  as 
a  present,  first,  two  quarts  of  milk  ;  second,  a  pair  of  roast 
chickens ;  third,  two  loaves  of  bread ;  fourth,  some  preserved 
cherries ;  fifth,  two  apple-pies  ;  sixth,  an  immense  bouquet 
of  roses  and  dahlias  ;  seventh,  a  bottle  of  balsam  for  cuts 
and  bruises,  and  '  other  wounds ,'  —  whether  of  the  heart  or 
not  the  stanch  maiden  did  not  explain ;  eighth,  some  butter. 
I  am  persuaded  that  she  brought  me  everything  that  oc 
curred  to  her  mind  as  possible. 

"  The  Colonel  had  quite  a  joke  over  my  trophies  ;  but  I 
noticed  he  ate  the  pies,  and  liked  the  cherries.  It  is  re 
freshing  to  see  two  honest  country  folk  loving  their  flag  with 
such  na'ive  simplicity. 


118  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  They  wish  '  they  could  only  do  something,'  and  just 
now  I  seem  to  be  the  object  of  their  baffled  patriotism. 
There  is  no  evading  the  constancy  of  their  attachment ;  their 
love  of  country  will  express  itself  on  me.  The  bouquet, 
which  is  half  as  tall  as  I  am,  fills  my  tent  with  its  fragrance 
while  I  write,  and  it  is  of  an  obtrusive  and  ardent  gayety, 
which  seems  almost  out  of  season  among  the  falling  leaves 
of  October. 

"  Though  I  date  this  letter  to-day,  it  was  begun  last  night, 
and  will  progress  slowly,  I  am  afraid,  amid  the  interrup 
tions  of  this  morning.  One  does  not  see  exactly  what  has 
been  accomplished  by  living  a  day  in  this  camp ;  but  he  finds, 
as  the  hours  pass,  that  something  claims  attention  pretty 
much  all  the  time. 

"  I  am  just  now  going  out  to  skirmish-drill  with  the  bugle. 
It  is  a  part  of  the  military  duty  which  I  fully  understand, 
and,  accordingly,  I  like  to  perform  it.  I  hope  it  won't  be 
long  before  I  can  say  the  same  of  all  parts 

"  Tell  Lillie  and  Charlie  P.  that  I  am  glad  they  are  knit 
ting  for  their  country,  and  I  should  like  to  come  over  and 
take  tea  some  evening." 

"  WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  October  21,  1861, 
Monday  Morning. 

"  Your  letter  which  spoke  of  William's  bilious  fever 
alarmed  my  fraternity  to  such  a  degree  that  I  got  into 
the  saddle  Saturday  afternoon  and  found  myself  here  at 
evening.  Yesterday  morning  I  drove  out  to  camp,  and 
found  Colonel  D  wight  prancing  about  his  camp  on  horse 
back,  and  his  regiment  at  their  morning  inspection.  I  took 
a  good  look  at  the  Colonel's  regiment,  and  was  delighted 
with  it.  The  Colonel's  fever  had  left  him.  I  had  a  pleas 
ant  day  yesterday  visiting  the  fortifications  near  William's 
camp.  I  go  back  to  Darnestown  immediately. 

"  This  country  needs  a  government.  Every  visit  I  make 
to  Washington  makes  me  feel  hopeless.  Nothing  is  done. 
Not  half  enough  doing." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D  WIGHT.  119 

"PLEASANT  HILL,  October  21,  1861,  7  o'clock,  p.  M. 
Camp  near  Darnestown,  for  the  last  time  ! 

"  I  have  just  time  to  write  you  a  word.  I  galloped  up 
here  this  morning  in  three  hours.  Then  had  a  brisk  battal 
ion  drill.  Then  —  came  the  news  that  Stone  was  crossing 
the  river  at  Edward's  Ferry.  We  were  ordered  to  report  to 
General  Hamilton,  changing  our  brigade  again.  That  led 
me  off  to  the  General's  head-quarters,  whence  I  have  just 
returned  with  marching  orders.  We  go  to  Poolesville  to 
night,  and  cross,  I  suppose,  to-morrow.  I  am  no  believer 
in  a  fight ;  but  movement  is  life,  and  it  seems  quite  like  old 
times  to  be  in  the  saddle  all  day,  and  then  all  night  again. 

"  My  little  gray  mustang,  which  William  got  for  me,  took 
me  to  Washington  briskly.  I  came  back  at  a  loose,  free 
gallop.  The  whole  division  is  now  on  the  move.  The  men 
seem  happy  as  larks.  I  am  in  the  midst  of  questioning  and 
orders  and  bustle.  I  cannot  write  any  more.  The  Colonel 
calls  for  me.  I  shall  give  this  letter  to  Mr.  Mudge,  who 
will  tell  you  all  about  us.  The  Adjutant  wants  to  pack  his 
pen  and  ink,  with  which  I  am  writing.  Mine  is  all  packed. 
Good  by.  Love  to  all." 


120  LIFE  AND   LETTERS   OF   WILDER  DWIGHT. 


CHAPTEK    VIII. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  CONRAD'S  FERRY.  —  CAMP  NEAR  THE 
LITTLE  SENECA.  —  BATTLE  OF  BALL'S  BLUFF. 

"  CAMP  NEAR  CONRAD'S  FERRY,  October  24,  1861, 
Thursday  Morning. 

E  violation  of  every  rule  and  maxim  of  military 
law,  the  exaction  of  the  extreme  penalty  therefor. 
Such  is  the  summing  up  of  the  massacre  near  Leesburg. 
Does  it  awaken  you  to  the  fact  that  politicians  are  not  gen 
erals  ? 

"  But  how  shall  I  tell  you  the  story  of  these  trying  days  ? 
I  wrote  a  hasty  word  as  our  line  was  forming  on  Monday 
night.  We  marched  gayly  and  willingly  off  in  the  moon 
light  towards  Poolesville,  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening. 
We  supposed  we  were  to  cross  at  Edward's  Ferry,  to  aid  in 
a  victorious  advance  upon  Leesburg.  The  men  marched 
splendidly.  At  Poolesville  we  first  met  the  faint  shadows 
of  the  coming  gloom,  —  a  few  stragglers  of  the  Fifteenth 
Massachusetts.  " 4  Our  companies  are  all  cut  to  pieces.  Our 
captain  is  shot ;  our  lieutenant-colonel  has  lost  his  leg ; 
we  have  all  been  cut  up,'  &c.  On  we  went,  more  earnestly, 
and  took  the  road  to  Conrad's  Ferry.  Then  we  began  to 
meet  the  flying  and  scattered  soldiers.  One  with  only  an 
overcoat,  another  with  only  a  blanket,  another  with  even  less. 
They  all  told  one  story,  of  flight  and  death  and  despair.  Still 
we  pressed  on.  Our  men  were  eager  to  reach  the  Ferry.  We 
got  there  at  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Eighteen 
miles  in  between  six  and  seven  hours.  Then  came  the  rain, 
and  then  came  the  order  to  stay  where  we  were.  The  morn 
ing  broke,  —  a  wild,  gusty,  rainy  morning,  —  upon  our  shelter 
less  and  weary  regiment.  The  only  house  near  where  the 


LIFE   AND   LETTEES    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  121 

regiment  stopped  was  filled  with  the  wounded.  As  soon  as  I 
could  get  away,  I  galloped  down  to  the  place  of  crossing. 
I  saw  them  letting  down  a  wounded  man  on  a  stretcher  into 
the  canal-boat.  It  was  Captain  John  Putnam,  a  clever  fel 
low,  of  the  New  England  Guards.  I  turned  and  went  down 
to  the  river,  meeting  on  my  way  a  dead  one,  and,  as  I 
passed,  one  of  the  soldiers  who  carried  him  turned  up  the 
face,  and  said,  '  Yes,  this  is  one  of  the  Tammany  boys.' 
I  went  to  the  river,  to  a  flat-boat  full  of  wounded ;  found 
Dr.  Hay  ward,  of  the  Twentieth.  He  said  that  Lieutenant 
Putnam,  Mrs.  Sam  Putnam's  son,  was  in  the  boat,  badly 
wounded.  I  spoke  to  him ;  he  was  bright,  but  evidently 
sinking.  I  asked  him  if  I  could  do  anything  for  him,  telling 
him  who  I  was.  He  said,  eagerly,  i  I  should  like  to  see 
Lieutenant  Higginson.'  I  said  I  would  bring  him.  Then  I 
asked  about  Caspar  Crowninshield,  Abbott,  Lowell,  Holmes. 
Caspar,  they  thought,  was  wounded.  Abbott,  safe.  Lowell 
and  Holmes,  both  wounded.  A  little  while  after  Caspar 
turned  up.  He  was  in  the  primitive  costume  of  his  over 
coat  and  drawers,  but  full  of  cheery  pluck,  calm,  clear,  and 
a  young  hero  in  bearing  and  aspect.  He  gave  a  clear  ac 
count  of  himself.  I  was  compelled  to  go  back  to  the  regi 
ment.  I  sent  Lieutenant  Higginson  down,  and  did  what  I 
could  for  the  men. 

"  I  had  been  in  the  saddle  about  twenty-four  hours,  and 
without  sleep,  and  I  got  into  the  house  among  the  wounded, 
and  fell  asleep  on  a  camp-stool.  Soon  we  were  off  again  to 
put  the  regiment  in  camp  under  cover  of  a  wood.  Just  as 
we  got  in  camp,  General  Hamilton  ordered  five  companies 

to   go   on   picket   along  the  river-bank The  next 

morning  at  daylight,  still  raining,  we  were  ordered  to  strike 
our  tents,  and  move  back  out  of  cannon  range  from  the 
river.  We  came  to  our  present  camp.  General  Hamilton 
then  ordered  me  to  take  three  companies  to  the  river,  and 
post  pickets  and  keep  a  lookout.  I  started.  At  about  three 
o'clock  I  returned  to  report  to  the  General  the  position  of 


122  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

things  on  the  river,  when  I  found  General  Banks  and  Gen 
eral  McClellan  in  his  quarters.  I  enjoyed  hearing  McClel- 
lan  talk  for  half  an  hour.  One  good  remark  of  his  I  recall. 
'  Well,'  said  he,  '  so  far  we  seem  to  have  applied  a  new 
maxim  of  war,  always  to  meet  the  enemy  with  an  inferior 
force  at  the  point  of  attack.'  General  Hamilton  then  or 
dered  me  to  return,  and  cross  to  the  island  at  night,  and 
remove  some  stores  which  had  been  left  there.  I  started  off 
again.  I  got  my  preparations  all  made,  when  an  order  came, 
at  about  eight,  P.M.,  '  Take  your  companies  at  once  to  Ed 
ward's  Ferry  to  cross.  The  enemy  is  in  force  there.'  I  drew 
in  my  pickets,  and  got  ready  to  move  promptly,  when  I  was 
met,  just  as  I  started,  by  a  mounted  orderly,  with  a  note  ad 
dressed  to  the  officer  in  command  moving  towards  Edward's 
Ferry.  '  Return  to  your  camp,  and  await  further  orders.'  I 
turned  back.  The  orderly  had  orders  for  General  Hamilton, 
and  did  not  know  how  to  find  him.  It  was  dark,  and  I  took 
my  horse  and  rode  with  him  to  General  Hamilton's  quarters. 
Our  regiment  had  started  for  Edward's  Ferry  before  the 
orderly  arrived.  When  they  got  there,  they  were  ordered 
to  return,  and  did  so.  This  made  the  third  night  of  fatigu 
ing  marching  or  guard  duty,  and  to-day  they  are  just  done 
up.  My  three  companies  got  their  rest,  however,  at  the 
river.  It  turns  out  that  we  were  to  support  Stone,  but 
McClellan  suddenly  determined  to  withdraw  him,  and  so 
the  countermanding  order.  To-night  I  go  back  to  the  river, 
and  go  over  to  the  island  to  remove  the  government  stores. 
That  will  give  me  a  lively  night  again.  I  ought  to  be  very 
tired,  but  excitement  makes  me  feel  the  fatigue  very  lit 
tle 

"  Providence  seems  to  have  watched  over  the  Massachu 
setts  Second,  does  it  not  ?  It  has  saved  us  from  Bull  Run, 
and  now,  from  a  worse  blunder.  For  what  has  it  reserved 
us  ?  I  hope  and  pray  for  the  guidance  of  a  good  general, 
unhampered.  I  must  go  back  to  the  Ferry.  Good  by. 
Love  to  all.  God  bless  you." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  123 

"  CAMP  NEAE  CONRAD'S  FERRY,  October  25, 
Friday  Evening. 

"  I  shall  try  to  send  you  some  pictures,  though  I  am  too 
tired  to-night  for  anything  but  sleep. 

"  Scene,  our  old  camp  ;  time,  evening.  The  regiment 
just  getting  into  marching  array  under  crisp  starlight.  The 
men  gay  with  singing  and  laughter.  The  camp  one  huge 
bonfire  of  old  bedding  and  tent-floors.  Every  man  in  fine 
marching  condition.  Again  :  Scene,  the  bank  of  the  canal 
at  Conrad's  Ferry  ;  time,  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning. 
The  regiment  huddled  in  dripping  groups,  under  a  driving 
rain.  The  men  tired  and  silent.  Ambulances  of  wounded 
men  passing  by.  Blankets  swung  on  poles,  covering  the 
bodies  of  the  slain,  and  borne  along  with  that  heavy,  dull 
tread  which  betokens  the  presence  of  death.  Jaded  strag 
glers  from  the  river  hurrying  back,  cold  and  half  naked, 
to  their  camps  ;  the  interchange  of  greetings  and  tidings. 
The  Colonel  and  other  field-officers  huddled  under  an  apple- 
tree,  breakfasting  upon  a  hard-boiled  egg,  and  shivering  over 
a  feeble  fire,  questioning  stragglers  about  the  fight.  Up 
comes  a  Yankee-looking  fellow,  clad  only  in  an  overcoat, 
with  that  peculiar  hunched-up  movement  which  indicates 
shuddering  cold.  Dialogue  between  Colonel  Gordon  and 
Yankee.  Colonel  G-.  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  Y.  The 
river.  6r.  What  regiment?  Y.  Massachusetts  Fifteenth. 
G-.  Did  you  fight  ?  Y.  Wai,  I  guess  we  did  some.  Gr. 
How  many  times  did  you  fire  ?  Y.  Thirty  or  forty.  Gr. 
What  did  you  do  during  the  day  ?  Y.  Wai,  at  first 
we  was  skirmishing  along,  and  I  got  behind  a  tree,  and 
I  was  doing  first  rate.  I  come  out  once,  but  I  see  a  feller 
sightin'  at  me,  and  so  I  got  in  again  suddin.  Then,  arter 
a  while,  the  cavalry  came  down  on  us.  I  see  there  wa'n't 
much  chance,  and  so  I  just  dropped  into  a  hole  there  was 
there,  and  stayed  still.  Pretty  soon  we  retreated  towards 
the  river.  We  got  together  there,  and  formed  a  kind  of  a 
line,  and  then  the  fitin'  really  began.  Some  fellers  came 


124  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

out  near  us,  and  says  they, '  We  're  Colonel  Baker's  men.' 
'  Guess  not,'  says  I.  '  Yes  we  are,'  says  they.  '  I  know 
better,'  says  I.  '  Let  'er  rip,  boys  ! '  and  we  fired  on  'em. 
But  't  wa'n't  no  kind  o'  use.  Baker  got  killed,  and  we 
could  n't  see  the  enemy,  and  they  raked  us  like  death.  I 
finally  come  down  the  bank  with  the  rest  on  'em.  I  see 
Colonel  Devens  there.  Says  I,  '  Colonel,  wot 's  to  be  done 
now  ?  '  '  Boys,'  says  he,  '  you  must  take  care  of  yourselves.' 
'  All  right,  Colonel,'  says  I.  And  the  way  my  'couterments 
come  off  was  a  caution.  I  swum  the  river.  But  I  tell  you 
there  was  a  sight  on  'em  did  n't  get  across.'  6r.  Do  you 
want  to  go  back  again  ?  Y.  Wai,  not  till  I  get  rested.  (7. 
You  're  cold,  ain't  you  ?  Y.  I  tell  you,  I  just  am.  6r. 
Don't  you  want  some  whiskey  ?  Y.  Don't  I  ?  (Yankee  takes 
a  pull  at  the  Colonel's  flask,  and  expresses  himself  only 
by  a  long,  silent,  intensely  meaning  wink.)  Yankee  then 
turns  and  sees  a  shivering  figure  approaching.  '  Hullo, 
John ;  I  never  expected  to  see  you  again.  Wai,  I  guess 
we  'd  better  go  to  camp,'  and  off  he  moves.  The  drollery 
of  the  scene  I  cannot  give.  I  just  indicate  an  outline  of 
the  cool,  circumstantial  narratives  that  every  other  man 
would  give  you.  We  found  none  so  amusing  as  this,  which 
relieved  our  tedious  breakfast.  But  the  men  showed  no 
fear,  and,  only  by  an  occasional  allusion,  any  sense  of  the 
terrors  through  which  some  of  them  had  passed.  Their 
only  idea  seemed  to  be,  If  there  only  had  been  more  of  us, 
how  we  would  have  licked  'em !  All  accounts  agree  that 
the  two  Massachusetts  regiments  fought  splendidly,  as  far 
as  individual  daring  and  coolness  go. 

"  I  sent  you  off  a  letter  yesterday  ;  for  I  must  continue 
my  story  without  a  formal  introduction  of  each  picture.  I 
mailed  the  letter  with  the  ink  wet  upon  it,  and  went  off  on 
my  duty  to  the  river,  to  take  charge  of  my  picket-line  along 
the  canal.  But  as  tattoo  is  now  beating,  and  as  I  put  on 
my  clothes  in  Washington  on  Monday  morning  and  have  not 
yet  taken  them  off  this  Friday  night,  I  will  tell  the  rest  of 
my  story  to-morrow." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  125 

"  CAMP  NEAR  THE  LITTLE  SENECA,  Saturday  Night, 
9  o'clock,  P.  M. 

"  He  who  predicts  the  morrow  in  this  life  has  his  labor 
for  his  pains.  The  morrow  takes  care  of  itself.  Here  we 
are,  and  tattoo  is  just  beating  again,  and  we  are  twelve 
miles  from  our  last  night's  camp.  I  will  go  on  with  my 
story.  When  I  got  to  the  river,  I  began  to  carry  out  my 
instructions  from  General  Hamilton.  They  were,  to  visit 
Harrison's  Island,  which  was  abandoned  by  our  troops  on 
Tuesday  night,  and  bring  off  some  government  stores.  I 
found  that,  owing  to  the  stupidity  of  the  officer  whom  I  had 
left  in  charge  at  the  point  of  crossing  opposite  the  island, 
one  of  the  ropes  had  been  cut,  and  there  was  only  one  rope 
left  stretching  across  the  river  on  which  I  could  ferry  my 
men  over.  I  got  my  men  ready,  took  the  two  leaky  flat- 
boats  and  moored  them  well,  and  waited  for  darkness.  The 
night  was  very  cold.  In  its  cover  we  started  with  one  boat, 
leaving  directions  for  the  other  to  follow  after  we  got  across 
and  got  things  secure.  We  pulled  across  silently  on  the 
rope  which  came  up  out  of  the  water,  and  sagged  a  good 
deal  with  the  stream.  Just  as  we  got  within  the  shadows 
of  the  opposite  bank,  the  Sergeant  whispered,  '  Hold  on, 
the  rope  has  broken.'  The  men  held  on  by  the  end,  and, 
sure  enough,  it  had  parted,  and  we  were  swinging  off  down 
stream  away  from  the  island.  There  was  something  laugh 
able  in  the  mischance.  We  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  return, 
which  we  did,  coiling  the  rope  in  our  boat  as  we  went  back. 
So  ended  all  visits,  for  the  present,  by  our  troops  to  Harri 
son's  Island.  I  was  kept  on  the  alert  all  night  by  firing  up 
the  river,  and  got  no  sleep  of  any  consequence,  —  sending 
and  receiving  despatches  from  General  Hamilton.  At 
light,  —  a  bright,  golden,  October  morning,  ice  an  inch 
thick,  —  I  visited  all  the  outlooks,  and  then  went  back  to 
camp  to  report  to  General  Hamilton.  After  breakfast,  on 
Friday  morning,  the  Colonel  suggested  that  we  should  ride 
to  the  Fifteenth  and  Twentieth. 


126  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

"  I  went  to  see  Lieutenant-Colonel  Ward.  He  has  lost 
his  leg,  below  the  knee.  Said  he,  4  Major,  I  am  not  as  I 
was  in  Washington.'  '  No,'  said  I,  4  you  should  have  ac 
cepted  my  invitation,  and  ridden  up  with  me  on  Monday.' 
We  were  together  last  Saturday  night  at  Willard's,  and  I 
begged  him  to  wait  till  Monday  and  go  up  with  me.  He 
said,  '  No,  I  shall  be  needed  in  camp.' 

"  We  then  went  to  the  Twentieth.  I  wish  all  the  friends 
of  the  young  wounded  officers  could  see  them ;  it  was  a 
pleasant  picture.  In  the  first  tent  I  visited  I  found  Captain 
John  Putnam.  He  was  bright  and  in  good  spirits.  I  shook 
his  left  hand.  His  right  arm  is  gone  at  the  shoulder. 
Turning  to  the  other  bed,  I  met  the  pleasant  smile  of  Lieu 
tenant  Holmes.  He  greeted  me  as  cordially  as  if  we  had 
met  at  home,  talked  gayly  of  soon  getting  well  again.  His 
wound  is  through  the  body  sideways,  just  missing  the  lungs, 
and  following  the  ribs.  Young  Lieutenant  Lowell,  too,  in 
the  next  tent,  was  making  light  of  only  a  flesh  wound  in  the 
thigh.  Caspar  Crowninshield,  whom  I  found  helping  Colo 
nel  Palfrey,  and  acting  as  Major,  was  as  calm  as  possible. 
He  gave  a  very  good  account  of  the  fight ;  he  evidently  did 
gloriously.  Only  once,  when  he  spoke  of  the  terrible  scene 
in  the  river  after  they  got  in  swimming,  did  he  seem  to  think 
of  the  horrors  of  the  scene.  Young  Harry  Sturgis  was 
also  bright.  He  said  that  Lieutenant  Putnam,  who  was 
wounded  in  the  bowels,  wished  to  be  left,  as  he  said,  to  die 
on  the  field.  '  That  is  the  fit  place  to  die,'  he  said.  But 
Harry  took  him  in  his  arms  and  brought  him  to  the  river. 
Young  Abbott  looked  well.  Lieutenant  Perry  is  a  prisoner, 
but  I  think  safe,  without  doubt.  So  of  Major  Revere  and 
Colonel  Lee.  When  we  got  back  to  camp  I  got  a  report 
from  the  river  that  the  enemy  were  quite  numerous  on  the 
opposite  bluif,  and  that  they  were  putting  a  field-piece  in 
position  there.  Though  I  did  not  credit  it,  down  I  went, 
and  spent  the  afternoon.  We  found  they  had  occupied,  or 
rather  visited,  the  island.  My  glass  let  me  see  them  plainly 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  127 

in  many  places,  and  in  others  they  were  within  familiar 
conversational  distance.  I  found  they  were  re-establishing 
their  pickets  strongly.  I  left  Captain  Curtis  in  charge,  and 
returned  to  camp.  I  found  that  I  was  detailed  as  one  of 
the  Examining  Board  for  our  division.  The  Board  consists 
of  General  Hamilton,  Colonel  Halleck,  and  myself.  We 
are  to  examine  the  officers  as  to  their  qualifications,  &c.  I 
cannot  approve  of  my  appointment,  but  as  it  emanates  from 
the  Head-quarters  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  I  suppose 
it  is  all  right. 

"  This  morning  I  was  sitting  at  breakfast,  when  up  rode 
General  Hamilton's  aide.  '  Major,'  said  he,  '  General  Ham 
ilton  says  you  will  move  your  detachment  at  once.' 
'  What  detachment  ? '  said  I.  i  The  advanced  guard  and 
pioneers,'  said  he.  '  I  have  no  orders,'  said  I,  i  and  no 
guard.'  '  There  is  some  mistake,'  said  he.  Then  up  came 
a  lieutenant  from  an  Indiana  regiment.  '  I  am  ordered  to 
report  to  you,'  said  he.  4  Very  well,'  said  I.  I  went  over 
to  General  Hamilton,  and  found  the  whole  brigade  was 
under  marching  orders.  By  inadvertence  we  had  not  re 
ceived  ours.  All  the  rest  of  the  brigade  were  ready  to  start, 
and  our  tents  were  all  standing.  I  went  off  at  once,  with 
my  pioneers,  and  put  the  road  in  condition.  Here  we  are 
in  camp.  Our  regiment  was,  of  course,  the  last  to  start. 
All  the  others  were  in  motion  before  our  tents  were  struck. 
But  our  regiment  passed  all  the  others  on  the  way,  and  was 
first  in  camp  to-night.  We  can  march.  Our  night  march 
to  the  Ferry  was  perfect.  Life  is  brisk  with  us,  you  see. 

"  I  have  father's  letter  about  the  stockings.  After  our 
wretched  wet  marching,  the  stockings  will  be  a  mercy,  I 
think.  Please  to  tell  Mrs.  Ticknor  that  towels,  one  apiece, 
will  be  good  for  us.  I  did  not  think  of  mentioning  them, 
as,  in  the  seriousness  of  actual  business,  the  luxuries  are 
lost  sight  of.  The  regiment  will  move  to-morrow  to  the 
neighborhood  of  the  mouth  of  the  Muddy  Branch,  near  the 
Potomac.  There  we  are  to  go  into  camp  for  the  present. 


128  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

So  ends  our  week's  work.  Hard  and  busy,  but  not  without 
its  use.  This  morning,  as  our  company  on  picket-duty  came 
along  the  canal  to  rejoin  the  regiment,  the  Rebels  from  the 
island  fired  on  them  several  times.  They  were  also  busy 
diving  and  fishing  for  the  guns  which  the  men  threw  away 
in  their  flight. 

The  rascals  are  very  saucy  over  their  victory.  I  think 
they  have  the  advantage  of  our  men  in  the  chaffing  which 
goes  on  across  the  river,  though  one  of  our  corporals  told  the 
sentry  opposite  him,  who  was  washing  his  feet,  to  take  his 
feet  out  of  his  (the  corporal's)  river,  or  he  would  shoot 
him. 

"  Reveilld  will  sound  at  five  o'clock  to-morrow  morning, 
and  at  seven  we  shall  be  off  and  away.  We  are  within  three 
miles  of  our  old  camp.  To-morrow  we  go  somewhat  nearer 
Washington. 

"  No  paper  that  I  have  yet  seen  gives  any  idea  of  the  fight, 
as  I  glean  it  from  various  sources.  No  generalship  seems 
to  have  been  used  in  the  matter.  Not  a  military  glance 
seems  to  have  swept  the  field,  not  a  military  suggestion 
seems  to  have  planned  the  enterprise.  The  men  crossed 
at  the  worst  point  of  the  river ;  they  had  only  two  small 
scows  to  cross  with  ;  retreat  was  impossible. 

"  If  you  could  see  how  completely  this  rocky,  wooded 
bluff  (of  which  I  have  attempted  a  sketch  on  the  opposite 
page)  overhangs  the  island  and  the  opposite  shore,  you 
would  realize  what  a  mad  place  it  was  to  cross  at.  If  you 
could  see  the  scows,  you  would  see  what  means  they  had  to 
cross. 

"  Again,  the  disposition  of  the  troops  was  wretched.  The 
formation  close  upon  the  bluff,  and  with  their  rear  right 
upon  the  river,  gave  no  chance  to  repair  mischance.  Also, 
the  thick  wood  which  surrounded  them  gave  the  enemy 
every  opportunity  to  outflank  them.  If  they  had  meant  to 
fight,  they  should  have  rested  one  of  their  flanks  on  the  river, 
and  have  protected  the  other  by  artillery.  This  would  have 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D  WIGHT.  129 

made  their  line  perpendicular  to  the  river.  Their  retreat 
might  have  been  up  or  down  stream.  But  they  could,  prob 
ably,  have  prolonged  the  fight  till  night,  and  then  run  for 
luck  in  crossing.  Such  a  position  would  have  been  stronger, 
and  retreat  would  have  been  less  fatal.  But  they  thought 
apparently  the  two  scows  their  line  of  retreat,  while,  in  fact, 
they  were  as  bad  as  nothing.  There  does  not  seem  to  be  a 
single  redeeming  feature  in  the  whole  business.  They  went 
on  a  fool's  errand,  —  went  without  means,  and  then  per 
sisted  in  their  folly  after  it  became  clear 

"  It  is  useless  to  talk  of  what  might  have  been  ;  but  if  you 
had  walked,  as  I  have  done,  for  the  -past  three  days  on  that 
canal  tow-path  opposite  the  bluff  on  whose  crest  our  brave 
men  formed  for  a  desperate  struggle,  you  could  not  help 
discoursing  upon  the  military  grotesqueness  of  the  whole 
action.  I  have  said  there  is  no  redeeming  feature  in  the 
whole  case.  I  am  wrong.  The  determined  courage  of 
Massachusetts  officers  and  soldiers  is  a  cheering  gleam 
through  the  gloom.  But  Heaven  save  us  from  any  more 
such  tests  of  valor.  '  The  officer  who  brought  you  here 
ought  to  be  hung,'  said  a  Rebel  officer  to  the  burial  party 
who  went  over  with  a  flag  of  truce  on  Tuesday  to  bury  our 
dead.  I  am  afraid  that  is  too  true. 

"  The  Rebels,  on  the  other  hand,  managed  finely.  They 
seem  to  have  waited  till  they  had  caught  a  goodly  number, 
and  then  to  have  sprung  their  trap  ruthlessly.  McClellan's 
first  question  was,  '  How  did  our  men  fight  ?  '  .  The  answer 
is  plain,  —  like  heroes.  If  the  men  were  properly  officered, 
they  would  be  the  best  troops  in  the  world 

"  The  blunder  and  its  consequences  are  of  the  past.  The 
future  must  be  freighted  with  better  hopes.  As  far  as  our 
military  position  is  concerned,  except  for  the  loss  of  life, 
and  perhaps  of  time,  all  is  as  well  to-day  as  a  week  ago. 

"  We  cannot  be  thankful  enough  for  the  mercy  which 
spared  our  regiment  from  having  any  other  share  in  the 
movement  than  to  aid  in  repairing  its  disasters.  I  shall  not 


130  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

soon  forget  that  night's  march,  and  that  gloomy  morning. 
God  bless  you  all  at  home !  We  can  trust,  and  must 
trust,  in  that  Power  which  will  overrule  everything  for 
good.  Good  night.  I  must  get  some  sleep  for  to-morrow's 
march." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  131 

CHAPTEK    IX. 

LETTERS   FROM   CAMP   NEAR  SENECA. 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  October  28,  1861. 

"  ~T  WISH  you  could  have  looked  in  on  our  camp  this 
morning.  The  stockings  came  last  night.  They 
were  spread  out  under  an  oak-tree,  and  the  companies  were 
well  supplied.  The-  men  were  radiant  over  them.  The 
memory  of  our  cold,  wet  week's  marching  and  counter 
marching  was  still  fresh.  The  chill  of  the. October  morn 
ing  had  not  yet  yielded  to  the  glowing  brightness  of  the 
sun.  The  sight  of  the  stockings  made  us  feel  warm  again. 
The  young  officers  paid  particular  attention  to  the  bundle 
from  Professor  Agassiz's  school 

"  I  had  no  idea  that  the  stockings  were  so  much  needed, 
but  the  fact  is,  they  are  so  much  better  than  the  ones  given 
by  government,  that  the  men  are  eager  for  them.  The 
captains  all  say  that  there  could  not  be  a  better  gift.  We 
shall  await  the  coming  of  the  shirts  and  drawers  with  pleas 
ure Collect  and  keep  stockings,  if  you  are  willing 

to  do  so,  against  another  time  of  need.  Convey,  in  some 
form,  to  the  donors,  our  high  appreciation  of  their  kindness. 
It  is  the  thing.  And  it  makes  men  feel  a  tingle  of  grateful 
pleasure  out  here,  to  think  they  are  remembered  and  cared 
for  at  home.  Apart,  even,  from  their  usefulness,  the  stock 
ings  bring  a  warming  and  cheering  sensation  to  the  men. 
That  is  the  moral  aspect  of  the  present. 

"  We  made  a  brisk  little  march  yesterday  morning,  and 
at  noon  were  in  camp  again,  on  a  charming  spot,  shel 
tered  by  a  fine  wood,  within  the  edge  of  which  are  the  field 
and  staff  tents,  while  the  regiment  extends  out  into  the 
open  field.  We  are  within  a  mile  of  the  Potomac.  The 
enemy's  pickets  ornament  the  opposite  shore,  while  we 


132  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

adorn  this.  The  point  is  near  the  mouth  of  the  Seneca,  and 
about  opposite  Drainsville. 

"  After  a  week's  work,  we  are  again,  on  this  Monday,  ap 
parently  as  far  from  any  immediate  active  duty  as  we  were 
a  week  ago.  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  bring  myself  now  to 
be  so  impatient  of  delay  as  I  have  been.  It  was  the  itch 
for  a  poor  kind  of  distinction  that  led  to  the  massacre  at 
Leesburg. 

"  We  find,  on  our  return  to  our  old  division,  that  the  regi 
ment  is  reassigned  to  General  Abercrombie's  brigade  ;  and 
to-morrow  we  are  to  move  into  our  new  position.  The 
General  places  us  first  in  his,  the  First  Brigade.  That 
gives  us  the  post  of  honor,  —  the  right  of  the  whole  of  Gen 
eral  Banks's  Division. 

"  I  have  not  yet  commenced  my  duties  as  Examiner  of 
Officers.  We  have  been  so  locomotory  lately  that  there 
has  been  no  time  for  anything.  A  pretty  low  standard  of 
qualifications  will  have  to  be  adopted,  or  we  shall  have  to 
exclude  a  great  many  of  the  present  officers. 

"  William,  I  suppose,  is  down  on  his  old  ground  again, 
opposite  Aquia  Creek,  trying  to  reopen,  or  keep  open,  the 
Potomac.  Well,  I  wish  him  luck  ;  but  the  leaves  of  autumn 
are  falling,  and  we  seem  to  be  just  about  in  the  same 
position  that  we  were  when  I  saw  the  buds  first  bursting 
last  spring  in  Annapolis." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  October  30,  1861. 

"  We  still  keep  the  camping-ground  in  which  we  were 
when  I  last  wrote,  and  we  are  enjoying  the  brightest  of  Oc 
tober  days.  There  is  a  general  impression  that  winter-quar 
ters,  or  some  such  depressing  movement,  is  to  be  the  fate  of 
the  grand  Army  of  the  Potomac 

"  Yesterday  Captain  Gary  took  a  letter  from  Colonel  Gor 
don  to  General  Evans  in  command  at  Leesburg.  The 
Colonel  was  a  West  Point  friend  of  General  Evans,  and 
wrote  to  ask  the  fate  of  our  friends  of  the  Twentieth.  Cap- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D  WIGHT.  133 

tain  Gary  took  a  white  handkerchief  on  a  stick  as  his  flag 
of  truce,  and  crossed  the  river  in  a  skiff.  He  went  up  and 
down  the  river,  but  could  find  no  picket  anywhere.  After 
wandering  about  with  his  flag  for  three  hours,  he  came  to  a 
farm-house.  The  man  was  a  Union  man.  He  said  he  had 
been  twice  arrested,  and  refused  to  take  the  letter.  He  told 
Gary  that  he  had  seen  no  soldiers  for  a  week,  and  thought 
there  were  none  nearer  than  Leesburg,  but  he  advised  the 
Captain  to  go  back,  as  lie  said  his  flag  of  truce  would  not 
be  respected.  Gary  made  up  his  mind  to  return.  I  confess 
I  was  very  glad  indeed  to  see  him  back,  and  considered  the 

expedition  a  very  risky  one 

"  We  have  a  beautiful  camping-ground  here,  and  are  get 
ting  it  into  perfect  order  for  muster  to-morrow.  The  last 
day  of  October  is  our  semi-monthly  muster  and  inspection." 

"  MUDDY  BRANCH  CAMP,  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA, 
November  1,  1861. 

"  You  have  your  choice  of  dates,  for  I  think  our  camp 
lies  between  the  two,  and  General  Banks  uses  the  former 
designation  for  the  division,  while  General  Abercrombie  uses 
the  latter  for  his  brigade.  I  hope  that  we  shall  cease  to 
have  occasion  to  use  either  date  before  the  traditional 
Thanksgiving  day  overtakes  us.  Unless  we  do,  it  will  find 
us  in  the  wilderness,  and  in  fasting  and  humiliation.  I  look 
to  see  ripeness  in  these  late  autumn  days,  and  I  hope  that, 
without  shaking  the  tree  of  Providence,  some  full-grown 
events  may  gravitate  rapidly  to  their  ripe  result,  even  in  this 
ill-omened  month  of  November.  Your  letter  of  Monday 
takes  too  dark  a  view  of  events.  I  can  well  understand 
that,  at  your  distance,  our  hardships  and  trials  look  harder 
than  they  seem  to  us.  I  do  not,  in  the  least,  despair  of 
happy  results,  and  the  more  I  think  of  the  Edward's  Ferry, 
or  loon-roads^  or  Conrad's  Ferry  mishap  (or,  to  describe  it 
alliteratively,  the  blunder  of  Ball's  Bluff),  the  more  clearly 
it  seems  to  me  to  be  an  insignificant  blunder  on  the  out- 


134  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

skirts  of  the  main  enterprise,  which,  except  for  the  unhappy 
loss  of  life,  and  except  as  a  test  of  military  capacity,  is  now 
a  part  of  the  past,  without  any  grave  consequences  to  follow. 
I  was  well  aware  that,  in  writing  my  first  letter,  I  should 
give  you  the  vivid,  and  possibly  the  exaggerated  impres 
sions  of  the  sudden  and  immediate  presence  of  the  disaster. 
The  wreck  of  a  small  yacht  is  quite  as  serious  to  the  crew 
as  the  foundering  of  the  Great  Eastern.  But  the  under 
writers  class  the  events  very  differently.  And  in  our  na 
tional  account  of  loss,  Ball's  Bluff  will  take  a  modest  rank. 

"  Should  the  naval  expedition  prove  a  success,  and  should 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  strike  its  blow  at  the  opportune 
moment,  we  can  forget  our  mishap.  You  see  I  am  chasing 
again  the  butterflies  of  hope.  Without  them  life  would  n't 
be  worth  the  living. 

"  Tell  father  I  have  read  the  pleasant  sketch  of  Soldiers 
and  their  Science,  which  he  sent  me.  I  wish  he  would  get 
me  the  book  itself,  through  Little  and  Brown,  and  also 
4  Crawford's  Standing  Orders,'  and  send  them  on  by  express. 
This  coming  winter  has  got  to  be  used  in  some  way,  and  I 
expect  to  dedicate  a  great  part  of  it  to  catching  up  with 
some  of  these  West  Point  officers  in  the  commonplaces  of 
military  science. 

"  We  are  quietly  in  camp  again,  and  are  arranging  our 
camping-ground  with  as  much  neatness  and  care  as  if  it 
were  to  be  permanent.  The  ovens  have  been  built,  the 
ground  cleared,  the  stumps  uprooted,  and  now  the  air  is 
full  of  the  noise  of  a  large  party  of  men  who  are  clearing 
off  the  rubbish  out  of  the  woods  about  our  tents.  By  Sun 
day  morning  our  camp  will  look  as  clean  and  regular  and 
military  as  if  we  had  been  here  a  month.  Yesterday  was 
the  grand  inspection  and  muster  for  payment.  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  the  regiment  drawn  up  with  its  full  equip 
ment,  —  knapsacks,  haversacks,  and  all.  It  was  a  fine 
sight.  By  the  way,  why  does  not  father  snatch  a  day  or 
two,  and  come  out  to  see  us  ?  We  are  only  a  pleasant 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  135 

morning's  drive  from  Washington,  and  I  think  he  would 

enjoy  seeing  us  as  we  are  in  our  present  case.  D 

would  enjoy  the  trip,  too,  and  they  might  also  pay  a  visit 
to  William  down  at  Port  Tobacco,  or  wherever  he  may 
now  be.  I  throw  out  this  suggestion. 

"  To-day  I  am  brigade  officer  of  the  day,  and  I  have  been 
in  the  saddle  this  morning  three  or  four  hours  visiting  the 
camps  and  the  pickets  on  the  river.  It  has  been  a  beautiful 
morning  of  the  Indian  summer,  and  I  have  enjoyed  it 
greatly.  Colonel  Andrews  took  cold  and  got  over-fatigued 
during  our  last  week's  work,  and  he  is  quite  down  with  a 
feverish  attack.  Yesterday  I  found  a  nice  bed  for  him  in  a 
neighboring  house,  and  this  morning  he  is  quite  comfortable. 
We  miss  him  very  much  in  camp,  and  I  hope  he  '11  be  up 
in  a  day  or  two 

" '  Happy  that  nation  whose  annals  are  tiresome,'  writes 
some  one.  c  Lucky  that  major  whose  letters  are  dull,'  think 
you,  I  suppose.  That  good  fortune,  if  it  be  one,  I  now 
enjoy. 

"  I  have  an  opportunity  to  send  this  letter,  and  so  off  it 
goes,  with  much  love  to  all  at  home,  in  the  hope  that  you 
will  keep  your  spirits  up." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  Sunday  Evening, 
Novembers,  1861. 

"  If  you  had  waked  night  before  last  in  our  camp,  you  would 
have  thought  yourself  in  a  storm  at  sea,  with  a  very  heavy 
northeaster  blowing.  By  the  rattle,  and  creak,  and  strain, 
and  whistle  of  the  canvas  and  gale,  you  would  have  be 
lieved  that  the  good  ship  was  scudding  before  the  blast.  If 
you  had  shivered  outside  to  attempt  to  secure  your  flutter 
ing  tent,  you  might,  by  a  slight  effort  of  the  imagination, 
have  thought  yourself  overboard.  When  the  morning 
broke,  after  a  sleepless  and  dreamy  night,  expectant  of 
disaster,  you  would  have  seen,  here  and  there,  a  tent  pros 
trate,  and  the  wind  and  rain,  for  you  could  see  them  both, 
wildly  making  merry  over  the  storm-driven  camp.  As  the 


136  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

Colonel  stepped  out  of  his  tent  at  reveille*,  a  big  branch 
from  an  overhanging  tree  came  crashing  down  upon  it,  and 
broke  the  pole,  and  drove  into  the  tent  he  had  just  stepped 
from.  '  There  's  luck,'  said  I,  putting  out  my  own  head  at 
the  instant.  We  went  out,  and  found  half  a  dozen  of  the 
limping  officers'  tents  flat  upon  the  ground  in  shapeless 
masses.  Captain  Gary  said,  with  an  attempt  at  mirth,  '  I 
woke  up  about  three  o'clock  with  a  confused  idea  that  some 
thing  was  wrong,  and  found  my  face  covered  with  wet 
canvas,  and  my  tent-pole  across  my  breast.  I  crawled  out 
into  the  rain,  and  ran  for  shelter.'  By  the  chill  and  ex 
posure  of  the  night,  I  found  myself  a  little  under  the 
weather,  and  I  found  the  weather  a  good  deal  over  me.  I 
was  indisposed  for  breakfast,  and  the  Doctor  said,  with  a 
meaning  chuckle,  i  Sea-sick,  I  guess.'  I  got  my  tent  se 
cured  with  ropes  and  strong  pins,  and,  after  considering 
the  best  way  to  be  least  uncomfortable,  determined  to  go  to 
bed  and  'feel  better  by  and  by?  What  a  day  it  was!  The 
storm  howled  and  roared,  and  seemed  to  tear  the  tent  away 
from  its  moorings.  I  had  every  alternation  of  fear  and 
hope,  but,  to  my  surprise,  weathered  the  gale.  The  Ser- 
geant-Major,  who  is  an  old  soldier  and  a  professional 
croaker,  and  whose  rueful  phiz  always  appears  shining  with 
grim  pleasure  amid  disaster,  who  says,  with  a  military  sa 
lute,  '  Can't  get  nothing  done,  sir,  not  as  it  ought  to  be, 
sir,'  —  the  Sergeant-Major  appeared  at  my  tent  with  his 
gloom  all  on.  4  Tent  is  blown  down,  sir;  pins  don't  seem 
to  do  no  good,  sir ;  my  things  is  all  wet,  sir.  Never  see  no 
storm,  sir,  equal  to  this  in  Mexico,  sir.'  '  Well,  Sergeant, 
it  '11  be  pleasanter  to-morrow,'  is  all  the  satisfaction  he  gets. 
The  day  blew  itself  away,  and,  as  we  had  hoped,  the  sun 
and  wind  went  down  together.  This  morning  a  clear  sky 
and  bright  sunshine  brought  their  gladness  with  them,  and 
our  Sunday  morning  inspection  was  a  proof  that '  each  to 
morrow  finds  us  better  than  to-day.'  The  men  came  out 
bright  and  shining  and  clean,  except  an  occasional  unfor- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  137 

tunate  whose  clothes  were  drying.  ;  Got  wet  yesterday, 
sir,'  was  a  valid  excuse,  though  not  a  frequent  one.  The 
day  was  a  proof,  however,  that  winter-quarters  in  this  lati 
tude  will  have  to  be  our  resource  before  many  weeks.  Tell 

Mr. that  I  put  my  feet  in  a  pair  of  his  stockings,  and 

thought  of  him  with  the  warmest  affection.  Sich  is  life, 
and,  more  particularly,  camp  life.  To-day  we  receive  the 
news  of  Scott's  retirement,  which  has  been  rumored  of  late. 
I  did  not  think  that  the  day  would  come  when  the  country 
would  welcome  his  loss.  But  I  think  every  one  is  relieved 
by  his  retirement.  Now  McClellan  assumes  an  undivided 
responsibility,  and  if  he  has  courage  to  defy  the  politicians, 
he  may  yet  win  the  laurel  which  is  growing  for  the  suc 
cessful  general  of  this  righteous  but  blunder-blasted  war. 
What  a  fame  is  in  store  for  that  coming  man.  Talk  of 
hero-worship.  The  past  cannot  furnish  a  parallel  for  the 
idolatry  which  will  bow  down  before  the  man  who  restores 
the  prestige  and  rekindles  the  associations  of  our  dear  old 
flag.  You  ask  in  your  last  letter  if  my  heart  does  not  sink. 
Sink  ?  It  swims  like  a  duck  when  I  think  of  the  future 
which  some  of  our  eyes  shall  see  ;  and  will  not  they  swim, 
too,  with  intense  delight,  when  the  sight  dawns  upon  them  ? 
For  myself,  even  now,  I  cannot  look  upon  the  flag  which  we 
brought  away  from  Boston  without  a  glow  and  heart-bump, 
which  I  take  to  be  only  faint  symptoms  of  the  emotion  that 
is  to  come.  I  augur  well  from  McClellan's  new  power,  and 
I  feel  sure  that  things  will  go  better  for  it.  One  will,  one 
plan,  one  execution.  As  to  the  immediate  results,  I  have 
no  opinion.  Upon  this  line  of  operations  I  do  not  look  for 
anything  decisive  this  winter.  Yet  it  is  not  impossible  that 
the  season  may  favor  us  sufficiently  to  allow  activity  here 
this  month. 

"  Monday  Evening. 

"  I  did  not  finish  my  letter  last  night,  as  there  was  no 
mail  out.  This  will  go  to-morrow.  It  takes  no  news,  except 
that  Colonel  Andrews  seems  quite  to  have  settled  into  a 


138  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

fever.  The  fever  is  by  no  means  severe,  but  it  may  drag 
slowly  along.  There  is  nothing  dangerous  in  his  condition, 
only  to  be  abed  is  not  pleasant,  and  to  be  weak  is  miserable. 
I  have  got  him  very  pleasantly  fixed,  and  he  has  the  best 
care  that  we  can  give  him We  have  had  drills  to 
day,  and  the  usual  incidents  of  camp  life.  Our  family 
is  having  a  little  measles,  but  is  otherwise  well.  We 
have  fine,  clear  weather  again,  and  a  bright,  hopeful  new 
moon." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  6,  1861. 

"  '  The  war  cannot  be  long.  It  may  be  desperate.'  This 
is  not  prophecy  from  the  closet.  It  is  inspiration  from  the 
master  of  the  position.  I  claim  for  our  General  the  rare 
virtue  of  sincerity,  —  the  fibre  of  all  genuine  character.  I 
repose  on  his  statements.  Recollect  that  he  wields  the 
causes.  Shall  he  not  predict  the  consequence  ?  '  I  ask 
in  the  future  forbearance,  patience,  and  confidence.'  But 
not  for  long.  If  he  can  compel  our  people  to  yield  him 
those,  he  has  already  gained  a  victory  like  the  conquest  of 
a  city.  '  I  trust  and  feel  that  the  day  is  not  far  distant 
when  I  shall  return  to  the  place  dearest  of  all  others  to 
me.' 

"  Now  that 's  cheerful.  Of  course  he  won't  go  home  and 
leave  us  on  the  wrong  bank  of  the  Potomac,  —  of  course  he 
won't  go  home  and  leave  his  lambs  to  come  back  wagging 
their  tales,  or  tails,  behind  them  and  him.  No  !  let  us  ac 
cept,  let  us  hail  the  omen.  '  Youth  is  at  the  prow.'  '  Pleas 
ure,'  God's  own  pleasure,  '  has  the  helm.'  For  one,  I  am 
ready  for  the  voyage:  I  take  McClellan's  speech  to  the 
Philadelphia  deputation  for  my  chart. 

"  I  am  afraid  this  is  in  the  nature  of  rhapsody ;  but  then 
it  is  November,  and  one  must  live  in  the  imagination,  and 
look  over  into  the  land  of  promise,  or  he  may  wither  and 
fall  like  the  leaves  about  him. 

"  I  wrote  thus  far  yesterday,  but  the  gloomy  sky  and  chill 
ing  blasts  were  so  unpropitious,  that  I  thought  I  would  not 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  139 

attempt  to  resist  their  influence.  It  was  a  regular  heavy, 
clouded,  wet  day.  We  had  as  yet  no  news  of  the  fleet, 
and  nothing  to  lift  ourselves  above  the  influence  of  the 
weather.  Last  evening  we  got  a  rumor  of  the  safe  arrival 
of  the  fleet  off  Bull's  Bay,  near  Charleston,  after  the  blow. 

Upon  this  vague  elation  we  went  to  sleep I  am  very 

glad  to  receive  your  copy  of  Howard's  letter,  and  rejoice  that 
he  is  in  the  midst  of  serious  work.  I  recognize  in  his  ac 
count  the  inevitable  hardships  and  vicissitudes  of  his  new 
life.  As  part  of  the  Western  army,  he  will  undoubtedly  see 
active  service  this  winter,  and  will  perhaps  hardly  get  breath 
ing  time,  unless  he  pauses  awhile  in  Memphis  to  take  a  look 
at  his  old  cotton-press.  I  am  very  glad  that  he  is  there, 
and  prefer  his  position  in  the  line  to  one  on  the  staff,  if  he  is 
equally  well  pleased  with  it.  You  say  you  like  to  receive 
my  letters,  and  so,  of  course,  I  am  most  happy  to  write,  but 
there  is  really  just  nothing  to  say.  Yesterday,  for  example, 
all  our  fires  smoked.  My  little  stove  was  very  vigorous  in 
that  direction.  Proverbs  are  said  to  be  the  condensed  wis 
dom  of  ages.  I  recalled  that,  '  Where  there  is  so  much 
smoke  there  must  be  some  fire,'  and  cheerfully  hung  on  to 
the  maxim  through  the  day  ;  but  I  felt  very  little  fire.  Then 
the  question  of  moving  the  hospital  was  raised,  considered, 
and  settled  ;  then  the  increase  of  measles  was  croaked  and 
investigated ;  then  the  news  came  that  the  patient  sick  with 
typhus  would  die,  and  at  evening  he  was  dead  ;  and  now, 

this  morning,  we  are  preparing  his  funeral 

"  To-day  we  have  no  news  but  the  prevailing  and  increas 
ing  rumor  that  we  shall  move,  in  a  day  or  two,  into  winter- 
quarters,  or,  at  least,  out  of  these  quarters.  I  have  a  sort 
of  hope  that  the  fates  may  select  our  regiment  for  some 
Southern  service,  if  we  succeed  in  getting  a  good  foothold 
on  the  coast." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  8,  1861. 

"  Your  letter  and  C-  -'s  and  D 's  all  came  last  even 
ing.  I  was  right  glad  to  see  them.  They  warmed  and  cheered 


140  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

me  on  the  coldest  night  of  our  camping  experience 

Colonel  Gordon  goes  off  to-day,  on  a  leave  of  absence,  for  a 

short  visit  home Colonel  Andrews  is  getting  better, 

but  is  still  shut  up,  and  must  be  for  some  time  ;  so  I  am  left 
in  command.  Of  course  there  will  nothing  happen  but  the 
quiet  recurrence  of  reveille*,  drill,  and  tattoo,  but  it  is  a 
different  feeling  to  have  the  ropes  in  your  own  hands.  I  am 
afraid  my  last  letter  was  a  little  dull.  It  was  written, 
towards  its  close,  to  the  depressing  sound  of  a  band  re 
hearsal  of  the  Dead  March  for  a  coming  funeral.  Such 
clouds  will  overhang  one's  paper,  and  leave  their  shadow. 
But  they  are  mere  shadows.  Our  hope  and  faith  are  as 

firm  as  ever,  and  the  world  wags  on 

"  Tell  Mrs.  Ticknor  that  I  have  no  statement  of  our 
wants  or  wishes  to  add  to  those  already  made,  unless  it  be 
for  woollen  mittens,  which  would,  of  course,  be  gladsome  to 
the  men  if  they  are  to  stay  here,  of  which  we  can  know 
nothing.  Mind,  I  do  not  ask  for  any  of  these  things,  but 

state  the  case  merely.     Love  to  all.     Tell he  is  the 

dearest  fellow  in  the  world." 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  10,  1861, 
Sunday  Evening. 

"  I  have  had  a  quiet  Sunday.  Colonel  Gordon's  sudden 
resolution  to  snatch  a  visit  home  has  left  me  alone  with  the 
regiment.  On  the  whole,  I  don't  mind  the  care,  though 
my  shoulders  are  young  to  it.  A  little  knapsack-drill  keeps 
a  soldier  in  marching  order,  you  know,  and  so  of  an  officer. 
There  are  a  good  many  things  to  call  for  care  and  thought 
just  now  in  the  regiment.  The  care  of  our  sick  ;  the  selec 
tion  of  a  good  camping-ground  in  place  of  our  present 
over-damp  site ;  the  problem  of  keeping  warm  when  air 
and  ground  seem  heavy  with  chilliness ;  the  maintenance 
of  drills  and  discipline  when  so  many  of  our  officers  are 
absent  or  sick,  —  not  more  than  half  being  now  present  for 
duty,  —  these  are  a  few  of  the  considerations  that  vibrate 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  141 

the  pendulum  of  my  thoughts.  I  have  just  been  out  to 
tattoo,  and  so,  as  my  '  little  family '  is  put  quietly  to  bed,  I 
am  free  to  write,  read,  or  sleep,  as  I  choose.  Another 
rainy  day  yesterday,  and  the  pleasant  sun  of  to-day  looked 
as  if  he  were  breeding  clouds  for  to-morrow.  So  is  Novem 
ber  on  the  Potomac.  If  the  news  is  half  true  from  the  fleet, 
why  may  not  a  turn  of  fortune  embark  us  for  some  Southern 
shore,  and  give  us  a  short  cut  to  the  tropics  ? 

"  Tell  father  that  he  happened  to  send  me  just  the  book 
I  wanted,  —  Halleck's.  I  fancy  it  is  a  clear  statement  of 
some  things  it  would  be  well  for  a  major  to  bear  in  mind. 
Our  day  has  been  regular  and  quiet.  Of  course,  my  only 
purpose  is  to  keep  the  machine  in  the  same  running  order 
as  it  now  is 

"  It  is  the  next  morning  since  I  began  this  letter.  I  have 
been  having  a  long  talk  with  General  Banks  at  his  head 
quarters.  The  General  does  not  seem  to  know  exactly 
when  we  move  from  here,  but  it  is  clear  that  our  division 
will  not  remain  here  for  the  winter.  It  is  astonishing  how 
this  army  life  philosophizes  a  man.  I  think  a  few  years  of 
it  would  make  one  '  impervious  to  the  storms  of  outrageous 
fortune.'  Colonel  Andrews  is  in  a  very  pleasant  house,  and 
is  rapidly  getting  well.  You  would  be  amused  to  see  me 
drill  my  battalion.  It  only  shows  we  never  can  tell  what 
we  can  do.  When  I  voted  for  Abraham  Lincoln  a  year  ago, 
I  did  not  suppose  I  was  electing  myself  into  a  damp  wheat- 
field  with  a  regiment  on  my  hands  ;  but  that  is,  apparently, 
what  I  voted  for.  I  only  wish  all  the  wheat-fields  in  the 
neighborhood  bore  the  same  harvest." 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  14,  1861. 

"  I  should  have  written  a  line  at  a  shorter  interval  from 
my  last  if  I  had  not  been  full  of  work.  I  decided  to  move 
my  camp  on  Tuesday  morning,  and  have  given  the  last  two 
days  to  making  the  men  comfortable  in  their  new  quarters. 
By  some  strange  mishap,  we  got  upon  an  unlucky  piece  of 


142  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

ground  for  our  camp.  We  were  assailed  by  diarrhoea,  — 
officers  and  men.  But  I  think  I  have  made  a  fortunate 
selection  of  a  new  ground,  and  I  am  myself  feeling  much 
better.  Our  whole  mess  was  under  the  weather.  As  I 
am  left  alone  in  command,  I  have  been  obliged  to  snatch 
odds  and  ends  of  time  to  be  a  little  sick  in.  Now,  however, 
we  are  out  upon  high,  open  ground,  and  have  fine,  clear 
sunshine,  and  we  are  all  well  again.  I  do  not  wish  either 
to  complain  or  be  elate,  but  I  have,  this  morning,  a  tranquil 
satisfaction  in  obstacles  overcome,  and  sunshine  achieved. 
You  know  there  are  times  when  everything  seems  to  get 
going  wrong.  The  Colonel  seemed  to  leave  the  regiment 
just  at  that  moment.  But  now  we  start  again. 

"  We  never  had  a  more  regular,  neat,  and  comely  camp 
than  we  have  to-day.  Of  course  I  enjoy  that,  and  I  am 
trying  to  keep  the  machine  in  good  order 

"  If  there  were  no  one  waiting  for  me,  I  should  try  and 
scribble  this  sheet  full,  but,  in  the  end,  you  would  know 
only  that  reveille  and  tattoo  succeed  one  another  naturally  ; 
that  our  camp  is  pleasant,  and,  I  hope,  healthy  ;  and  that 
to  be  major  commanding  a  regiment  is  a  busy  life,  but,  on 
the  whole,  a  happy  one,  as  lives  go.  Love  to  all." 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  MARYLAND,  November  14,  1861. 

"  Though  I  wrote  you  a  letter  this  morning,  I  may  as 
well  begin  another  to-night.  The  patter  of  the  rain  reminds 
me  that  my  new  camping-ground  is  to  be  put  to  its  test.  I 
have  just  finished  reading,  in  the  Baltimore  Clipper,  the 
news  of  the  fleet.  Glad  tidings  !  Such  thrusts  as  these 
between  the  ribs  of  Rebeldom  will  make  it  wince.  Success, 
too,  gladdens  me,  independently  of  its  results.  I  have  got 
tired  of  delay  and  failure.  Except  Sherman's  proclamation, 
the  account  all  reads  well.  That  is  altogether  too  mealy- 
mouthed.  For  one,  I  should  like  to  go  there  announcing 
that  I  come  as  an  enemy  to  waste  with  fire  and  sword. 
That 's  what  we  mean  to  do,  and  I  should  like  the  satisfac 
tion  of  saying  so. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  143 

"  But  if  calling  things  by  the  wrong  names  pleases  the 
President,  and  does  not  alter  the  things  themselves,  why, 
we  must  put  up  with  it.  An  army  is  a  stern  fact,  and  its 
presence  will  indicate  itself  roughly  enough. 

"  The  sudden  movement  of  the  slaves  shows  that  fire 
among  tinder  has  one  effect.  The  slight  indication  afforded 
by  the  account  of  the  servile  movement  is  instructive.  I 
am  afraid  it  upsets  my  friend 's  theories.  Indeed,  the 
orizing  in  these  times  is  very  hazardous.  I  had  rather 
fight. 

"  The  incidents  of  my  day  are  not  very  interesting. 
Colonel  Andrews  grows  better,  but  his  recovery  must  be 
slow.  The  attempt  to  make  things  go  right  is  an  arduous 
and  irritating  one  always.  In  a  regiment  it  is  particularly 
so,  because  where  one  thousand  men  are  concerned  a  thou 
sand  little  matters  will  go  wrong  inevitably.  The  net  re 
sult,  when  you  come  to  look  at  it,  is  often  very  good,  while 
every  ingredient 'seems  to  be  the  wrong  one.  But  I  have 
no  reason  to  complain  of  the  results,  and  so  I  will  e'en  be 
philosophical  and  calm  in  my  observation  of  the  processes.  I 
am  glad  to  be  getting  quite  well  and  strong  again.  Many 
of  my  recent  sensations  have  not  been  those  appropriate  to 
a  major  commanding.  But  now  I  am  getting  firm  again 
in  my  saddle,  and  can  even  use  the  spurs,  if  desirable. 
I  expect  my  servant  to-morrow.  I  shall  feel  very  much  like 
killing  a  fatted  calf  for  him.  Our  rainy  night  leaves  us  in 
very  good  condition,  and  satisfies  me  that  my  camp  is  a 
good  one.  I  have  just  finished  a  chilly  breakfast ;  have 
directed  some  punishments  ;  have  seen  to  it  that  the  com 
pany  for  picket  duty  at  the  river  starts  in  season  ;  have  re 
fused  the  applications  for  leave  of  absence ;  have  wept 
copious  but  unsympathizing  tears  over  my  fire,  which  will 
smoke  ;  have  received  the  reports  of  the  officer  of  the  day  ; 
have  examined  the  Surgeon's  report  and  the  company  re 
ports,  and  reduced  the  sick-list  thirty-two  men  ;  have  que 
ried  and  questioned  variously,  and  expect  to  do  so  for  an 


144  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

hour  longer.     I  feel  exceedingly  well  and  lively,  and  will 
close  this  letter  in  season  for  the  mail." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  16,  1861. 

"  The  difference  between  our  actions  in  this  war  seems 
to  be,  that  we  don't  half  do  our  Ball's  Bluffs,  and  we  do  half 
do  our  Port  Royals.  Fruit  ripe  in  South  Carolina,  and  no 
one  to  pick  it.  That 's  the  way  I  read  the  news  from  the 
scene  of  our  late  success.  Where  are  the  next  twenty 
thousand  troops  ?  They  should  be  within  an  hour's  sail  of 
Port  Royal.  Is  it  a  sagacious  military  conjecture,  that  a 
victory  at  that  point  would  strike  terror  and  panic  to  the 
neighboring  cities  ?  If  so,  should  not  that  conjecture  have 
anticipated  the  result  of  which  we  are  just  beginning  to 
hear  ?  Should  it  not  have  provided  a  force  to  enjoy  and 
intensify  that  panic  ?  I  know  of  a  whole  division,  which, 
instead  of  shivering  in  the  mud  of  Maryland,  would  gladly 
be  pursuing  a  panic-stricken  multitude  with  fire  and  sword. 
Why  not  ?  Of  course,  we  are  much  in  the  dark,  but  my 
guess  is,  that  twenty  thousand  good  soldiers  could  to-day 
enter  either  Charleston  or  Savannah.  If  they  could  not 
occupy  and  hold,  they  could  burn  and  destroy.  '  Rebels 
and  Traitors,'  I  would  head  my  proclamation.  Not '  Caro 
linians  and  Fellow-citizens.'  Not  peace,  but  the  sword. 
There  is  cotton  to  tempt  avarice,  negroes  to  tempt  philan 
thropy,  Rebels  to  tempt  patriotism,  —  everything  to  warrant 
a  great  risk.  As  I  read  the  Southern  accounts,  they  seem 
to  me  to  indicate  the  presence  of  panic.  From  that,  I  infer 
a  weak  and  exposed  condition.  We  shall  leave  them  time 
to  recover  their  courage,  and  strengthen  their  defences.  I 
do  not  know  what  is  possible  to  our  i  Great  Country,'  but, 
possible  or  impossible,  I  would  pour  an  avalanche  on  that 
shore  forthwith. 

"  You  see  that  reflection  and  conjecture  are  the  only 
amusements  of  our  rainy  days.  So  I  must  fill  my  letters 
with  guesses  and  hopes.  I  advise  you  to  read  McClellan's 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  145 

Review  of  the  "War  in  the  Crimea.  One  could  wish  that  his 
pen  were  free  to  criticise  his  own  campaign.  Could  he  not 
expose,  here  and  there,  a  blunder  ?  Perhaps  the  answer  is, 
It  is  not  his  campaign. 

"  My  new  man  arrived  last  night,  very  unexpectedly  to 
himself,  apparently  ;  for  he  seemed  to  find  obscurity  en 
veloping  his  path,  and  to  think  his  advance  to  this  point  a 
great  success. 

"  He  brought  letters  which  delighted  me.  It  was  mail 
night,  and  I  had  no  mail  till  John  came  with  his  budget. 
Father  seems  to  speak  stoically  of  '  a  long  war.'  What  it 
may  be  wmiianaged  into  I  cannot  say,  but,  decently  man 
aged,  it  cannot  be  a  long  war.  The  disasters  and  embar 
rassments  which  will  follow  in  its  train  will  be  long  enough ; 
the  war  itself  short  and  desperate,  I  hope. 

"  There  is  something  ludicrous  in  writing  so  quietly  on 
calm,  white  paper,  without  expressing  at  all  the  roaring, 
whistling,  wintry  surroundings  of  my  present  scene.  Our 
yesterday's  rain  has  cleared  off  cold.  Heal  winter  this 
morning.  Ice  in  the  wash-basin,  numbness  in  the  fingers, 
frost  from  the  breath.  I  rejoice  in  the  invigorating  turn 
that  the  weather  has  taken.  I  feel  myself  much  better  for 
it,  and  I  know  it  must  improve  the  health  and  vigor  of  the 
camp.  But  the  howling  blast  is  a  stern  medicine,  and  even 
now  it  shakes  my  tent  so  that  my  pen  trembles.  I  should 
like  you  to  have  seen  the  picture  our  camp  presented  at 
reveill^  this  morning.  I  purposely  went  out  without  my 
overcoat,  and  walked  leisurely  down  the  line,  as  if  I  were 
fanned  by  the  zephyrs  of  June.  I  wished  to  have  the  men 
observe  that  I  recognized  nothing  unusual  in  our  first  tasto 
of  winter.  Still,  in  point  of  fact,  it  was  cold.  Now  drill  is 
going  on  without  overcoats.  I  told  them  they  must  double- 
quick  if  they  were  cold.  The  only  way  is,  to  hold  things 
up  to  the  sharp  line  under  all  circumstances.  It  will  be  a 
little  hard  to  keep  up  the  illusion  all  winter,  I  fear,  however. 

Still,  everything  requires  bracing  up  constantly.    The  virtue 
10 


146  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

of  this  military  life  is  the  importunate  recurrence  of  daily- 
duty.  Rain  or  shine,  health  or  sickness,  joy  or  grief,  re- 
veiHe*  knocks  '  cequo  pede '  with  impartial  cadence  at  every 
tent.  Its  lively  and  awakening  beat  thrills  a  new  life 
through  the  camp,  as  the  rising  sun  whitens  the  glowing 
east.  And  then  when  tattoo  at  evening  awakes  the  men  to 
sleep  (for  it  is  not  a  soothing  strain),  '  duty  performed  '  has 
made  them  happy,  or  should  have  done  so,  on  the  authority 
of  the  great  expounder  of  the  Constitution  himself.  Such 
are  the  consolations  of  camp  life  in  November.  But  then, 
as  Dr.  Hedge  happily  observes  in  a  discourse  on  4  National 
Weakness,'  '  the  Rebel  power  is  still  unsubdued  ;  the  har 
vest  is  passed,  the  summer  is  ended,  and  we  are  not  saved.' 
True,  but  we  are  not  lost.  We  propose  in  the  Massachusetts 
Second  to  keep  Thanksgiving  day  thankfully,  if  not  for  what 
has  happened,  at  least  for  what  has  not  happened.  I  have 
just  sent  out  an  order  for  the  provision  of  Thanksgiving  din 
ners  for  the  men.  And  I  quite  expect  that  turkey  and  plum- 
pudding  will  smoke  on  our  mess-pans  and  exhale  from  our 
ovens  on  Thursday  next.  I  could  be  content  to  be  at  home 
on  that  day,  but,  failing  that,  I  shall  enjoy  an  attempt  to  ex 
temporize  and  emulate  a  New  England  Thanksgiving  in  a 
Maryland  camp  on  the  wrong  bank  of  the  Potomac.  We 
shall  read  the  Thanksgiving  Proclamation,  and  be  as  happy 
as  we  may.  I  suppose  you  will  have  your  usual  celebration. 
I  expect  to  enjoy  the  unusual  honor  to  come  in  among  the 
absent  friends 

"  The  pleasure  of  reading  your  last  letter*  was  somewhat 
alloyed,  I  confess,  by  the  pervading  strain  of  eulogy  of  my 
own  letters.  It  is  all  nonsense.  The  story  is  a  very  good 
one,  perhaps  ;  the  telling  it  is  nothing  ;  and  as  for  '  histori 
cal  value,'  you  just  wait.  Our  little  events  will  not  be  a 
paragraph  in  the  record  which  ought  to  be  and  must  be 
written. 

"  Father  closes  his  last  letter  with  the  very  kind  wish 
that  he  knew  what  to  send  me.  I  happen  to  be  able  to  tell 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  147 

him,  —  viz.  a  little  nice  English  breakfast  tea.  A  good 
honest  cup  of  black  tea  would  delight  me.  If  you  should 
find  that  Colonel  Gordon  has  not  gone  back  before  this 
reaches  you,  pray  make  him  the  bearer  of  a  small  package 
of  tea. 

"  I  see  by  to-night's  Clipper  (it  is  Saturday  evening  while 
I  write),  that  a  delegation  from  Baltimore  goes  to  ask  the 
President  for  government  patronage  for  the  repentant  city. 
This  fulfils  a  prediction  I  had  the  honor  to  make.  I  see, 
also,  that  the  landing  of  our  force  at  Beaufort  was  a  scene 
of  disorder  and  confusion.  That  comes  of  sending  the 
rawest  troops  to  the  hardest  duty.  I  am  puzzled  to  know 
why  this  is  done  to  such  an  alarming  extent.  But  tattoo 
is  just  beating.  It  is  a  raw  and  gusty  night.  The  air 
bites  shrewdly.  I  think  I  will  leave  that  puzzle  unsolved, 
and  get  within  the  warm  folds  of  my  constant  buffalo-robe. 
Good  night.  Grandmother  will  be  pleased  to  hear,  before 
I  go  to  bed,  that  with  one  of  her  blankets  I  have  just  made 
Captain  Mudge  warm  and  comfortable  in  a  little  attack  of 
illness  which  has  just  overtaken  him.  The  soft  blanket 
will  be  as  good  as  the  Doctor's  medicine,  —  better,  per 
haps 

"  I  have  just  room  to  bid  you  good  morning,  this  Sunday 
morning.  I  am  just  ready  for  inspection,  and  have  no  doubt 
the  day  will  work  itself  off  quietly  and  pleasantly." 


148  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LETTERS  FROM   CAMP   NEAR  SENECA. 

"  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  19,  1861. 

"  T)  Y  every  rule  of  gratitude,  after  receiving  father's  long 
[)  and  cheerful  letter  this  morning,  this  letter  should 
be  written  to  him.  But,  as  the  countryman  said  of  his 
wife,  that  what  was  her'n  was  his'n,  and  what  was  his'n  was 
Jiis  own,  so  I  fancy  I  shall  talk  as  freely  to  both,  though  I 
write  to  only  one.  Did  I  not  get  a  letter  off  on  Sunday  ? 
I  think  so.  That  was  a  day  of  bright-blue  cold.  I  gave  up 
church  because  I  had  not  the  heart  to  keep  the  men  even 
in  a  devout  shiver  for  an  hour.  Yesterday  I  got  a  little  pull 
back  again.  I  had  fully  made  up  my  mind  to  be  perfectly 
well,  so  it  shook  my  confidence  a  trifle.  I  had  to  keep  busy 
in  order  to  regain  it.  The  day  looked  rather  gloomy.  The 
Adjutant  was  taken  sick,  and  the  Sergeant-Major.  So  I  had 
to  detail  raw  hands.  Three  captains  were  on  their  backs. 
The  infernal  malaria  seemed  to  have  wilted  every  one. 
Drills  were  dull,  and  the  hospital  over  busy.  There  was  a 
general  cheerlessness  overhanging  every  one. 

"  Just  at  this  moment  what  does  the  perverse  generalship 
of  our  inapposite  brigadier  but  send  me  an  order :  '  There 
will  be  a  review  and  inspection  of  this  brigade  in  the  large 
field  hitherto  known  as  a  division  review -ground  near 
Darnestown.'  There  was  hopelessness.  Colonel  and  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  both  away  ;  Adjutant  and  half  the  captains 
off  duty  ;  myself  just  between  wind  and  water  ;  every  one 
dumpish.  It  never  rains  without  pouring.  The  band 
leader  and  the  drum-major  reported  themselves  sick  at 
parade.  Whew-w-w-w-w !  I  think  it  all  had  a  tonic  and 
astringent  effect  on  me.  sympathized  with  me  in  my 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER.  D WIGHT.  149 

efforts  to  repair  disasters  in  season  for  a  grand  review.  I 
told  her  that,  though  things  did  n't  look  very  bright,  yet 
I  had  always  noticed  one  thing,  a  dark  morning  kept  grow 
ing  better,  and  I  was  going  to  get  up  with  that  faith.  I 
made  my  arrangements  busily  last  evening. 

"  This  morning  was  jolly  cold.  I  was  busy  about  all  the  lit 
tle  formalities  and  precisions  which  belong  to  such  occasions, 
settling  them  with  the  various  officers  to  whom  the  duties 
belonged.  The  Acting  Adjutant  had  a  little  delay  which 
bothered  me,  but  at  about  ten  o'clock  the  line- was  formed, — 
the  men  all  in  overcoats, — with  full  equipment.  The  morn 
ing  had  mellowed  into  Indian-summer.  After  all,  the  Massa 
chusetts  Second  did  look  finely.  We  marched  off  briskly 
to  Darnestown,  about  a  mile  and  a  half.  The  regiment 
arrived  at  the  large  field  a  few  moments  late,  —  the  fault  of 
a  green  adjutant.  No  great  matter,  but  an  annoyance. 
The  rest  of  the  brigade  was  in  line,  —  my  place  was  on  the 
right.  I  formed  the  regiment  a  little  in  rear  of  the  line, 
then  rode  up  to  General  Abercrombie,  who  said  he  wished 
the  whole  brigade  line  changed.  This  gave  me  a  chance 
to  move  our  regiment  right  out  in  line  of  battle.  I  advanced 
them,  and  they  moved  with  excellent  precision,  keeping  their 
line  exactly.  It  was  a  refreshing  turn.  The  regiment  sa? 
luted,  and  then  marched  round  in  review,  passing  round  the 
whole  field,  and  saluting  the  General,  who  was  at  the  centre, 
opposite  the  front  of  our  line.  The  regiment  marched  well, 
—  the  distances  all  well  kept,  —  and  wheeled  into  line  again 
finely.  So  far,  well.  Then  an  inspection,  which  is  a  tedious 
process.  The  General  noticed,  what  is  certainly  true,  that 
the  men  lopked  peaked,  dwindled,  pined.  But  their  sol 
dierly  appearance  was  undeniable.  As  if  to  cap  the  climax 
of  our  day's  work,  the  General  turns  to  me  and  says,  '  Put 
the  battalion  through  a  short  drill,  and  then  you  can  take 
them  home.'  I  might  have  mentioned  that  I  rose  this 
morning  pretty  well  except  a  raging  headache,  and,  on  the 
whole,  felt  brisk.  I  did  not  much  feel  like  shouting  through 


150  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

a  battalion-drill,  however.  Still,  I  did  it.  We  did  it  pret 
ty  well,  too,  on  the  whole.  Shall  I  tell  you  what  we  did  ? 
You  will  understand  it  exactly.  The  battalion,  as  formed  for 
inspection,  was  in  open  column  of  companies,  right  in  front. 
I  first  threw  them  forward  into  line,  which  went  well,  then 
double-columned  on  the  centre,  countermarched  and  de 
ployed,  then  repeated  that  movement  at  a  double-quick,  then 
broke  the  line  to  the  left,  and  wheeled  again  to  the  right  into 
line,  then  broke  to  the  right  by  companies,  closed  in  mass 
and  formed  divisions,  then  column  forward  and  round  by 
two  wheels,  closed  in  mass  to  their  old  front,  then  halted 
and  deployed  column  on  the  first  division  at  a  double-quick, 
bringing  them  on  their  original  line.  Then,  after  a  rest, 
broke  by  right  of  companies  to  the  rear,  and  so  marched 
home,  having  weathered  the  day.  Now,  is  n't  that  a  lucid 
story  ?  Don't  you  like  it  ?  It 's  just  what  I  did,  anyway, 
and  is  n't  a  bad  drill  for  the  inexperience  of  a  headachy 
major.  I  got  home  soon  after  two,  having  had  a  hard  day 
for  a  regiment  so  much  pulled  down  as  ours.  I  put  in  sev 
eral  good  words  for  us  with  the  Brigadier,  and  I  am  in  hopes 
to  whiskey  and  quinine,  or,  better  still,  to  transport  our  regi 
ment  into  its  old  health  and  vigor.  But  certain  it  is,  that 
hard  work,  exposure,  and  Potomac  damp  have  wrought  their 
perfect  work,  and  we  '  need  a  change,'  as  the  saying  is. 
Besides,  there  is  this  constant  picket  duty  on  the  river, 
watching  through  damp  nights  for  enemies  that  have  n't  a 
purpose  of  coming.  It  is  the  hardest  kind  of  duty,  and  the 
most  useless,  or  rather  the  least  obviously  useful,  and  the 
least  exhilarating.  I  was  reading,  this  morning,  an  order 
from  head-quarters  about  '  amputations.'  '  Pshaw  !  '  I  ex 
claimed,  to  the  edification  of  our  surgeon.  '  If  they  want 
to  be  practically  useful,  let  them  pronouncfe  about  diarrhoea 
and  chills :  there  are  no  amputations  in  civil  war.'  With 
such  dismal  pleasantries  we  relieve  the  depression  of  our 
sinking  spirits.  But  I  have  the  pleasure  to  know,  or  to 
feel  sure,  that  we  are  only  harvesting  now  the  crop  of  an 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF  WILDER    DWIGHT.  151 

early  sowing,  and  that  things  grow  better.  I  am  very  well 
again  this  evening.  Colonel  Andrews  now  grows  obviously 
better.  The  Adjutant  will  go  to  a  house  to-morrow  for 
two  or  three  days'  rest,  and  I  am  inclined  to  hope  that 
things  have  just  got  to  their  worst  with  us. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  giving  you  an  over-dark  view.  Don't  let 
your  imagination  run  away  with  it.  We  are  only  debili 
tated,  that 's  all.  Nothing  dangerous,  but  annoying.  I  am 
only  thankful  that  I  am  so  well,  and  only  troubled  that 
there  is  so  little  I  can  do  for  the  regiment. 

"  Send  us  your  warm  clothes  as  fast  as  they  are  ready  in 
respectable  quantities 

"  Tell  father  I  join  in  his  hurrahs,  except  that  I  caution 
him  to  wait  for  exploit  and  achievement  before  he  congratu 
lates  his  boys,  or  canonizes  their  mother  on  their  account. 
It  is  very  humdrum  duty  they  are  doing  now.  It  asks  only 
willingness  and  endeavor,  —  a  good,  earnest  disposition. 
If  it  shall  turn  out  that  they  can  have  strength  for  better 
things  by  and  by,  sha'ii't  I  be  glad  !  To-day  I  am  only  tran 
quil  and  hopeful.  Our  Thanksgiving  day  will  be  a  great 
success.  I  fancy  nearly  a  hundred  turkeys  :  a  great  many 
geese  and  chickens  will  smoke  on.  our  mess-pans  !  Then 
the  plum-puddings!  Already  the  cooks  are  rehearsing  that 
delicacy  in  many  forms,  in  anticipation  of  the  grand  and 
decisive  movement  on  Thursday.  I  think  that  thankfulness 
of  heart  and  generosity  of  good  cheer  will  so  exalt  and  in 
spirit  the  regiment  that  we  shall  know  no  more  depression  or 
invalidism.  At  all  events,  the  preparation  has  a  wholesome 
cheerfulness  in  it.  General  Abercrombie  to-day  said,  '  No 
winter-quarters.'  This  was  direct  from  McClellan.  He 
also  intimated  that  we  may  go  South.  That  rumor  seems  to 
gather  and  not  fade,  as  most  do.  It  has  life  in  it  still,  and 
perhaps  it  may  bring  itself  to  pass  pretty  soon. 

"  I  am  making  a  long  story  of  my  short  experiences  ;  but 
it  is  pleasant  to  write,  and,  but  for  a  little  consideration  left 
for  you,  I  might  write  on  for  an  hour.  As  it  is,  I  will  write 


152  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

an  affectionate  good-night,  and  go  to  bed.  Before  I  go, 

don't  let  me  forget  to  admonish  you  to  tell  Mr. that 

those  drawers  are  as  warm  as  the  love  of  woman,  and 
as  constant  as  the  love  of  man.  Tell  him  they  are  my  hope 
and  faith  in  this  great  November  tribulation.  I  will  recol 
lect  him  Thanksgiving  day. 

"  We  have  a  bright  Wednesday  morning.  I  find  a  chance 
to  send  this  by  Lieutenant  Choate,  who  goes  home  on  a 
short '  sick-leave,'  so  I  must c  close  up  promptly.'  What  a 
joke  the  capture  of  Mason  and  Slidell  is  !  There  is  fun  in 
it.  Whether  there  is,  also,  international  law,  or  not,  I  don't 
know.  The  luck  seems  really  to  have  turned  lately,  and  to 
be  going  against  rebels  and  traitors.  I  was  very  much 
pleased  to  read  Howard's  letter.  It  looks  as  if  he  were 
where  he  would  have  a  good  chance  to  make  a  soldier,  and 
to  be  an  active  one  too.  What  an  oddity  this  whole  life 
seems  to  me  every  now  and  then,  when  I  think  of  it. 
Changes  and  chances  are  very  rapid.  Verily,  to  be  an 
American  is  to  be  everything  by  turns,  and  nothing  long. 

"  Speaking  of  '  nothing  long,'  what  do  you  think  of  this 
letter  ?  The  camp  looks  white  and  frosty  from  my  tent,  as 
I  look  out  this  morning.  I  think  I  will  go  to  breakfast  and 
warm  up  a  little.  As  to  my  health,  it  seems  firm  again 
to-day,  and  I  have  every  reason  for  content.  Love  to  all  at- 
home. 

"  P.  S.  —  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  General  was 
quite  well  pleased  with  the  review.  That  is  a  comfort, 
under  the  circumstances." 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  20,  1861. 

"  I  have  just  come  in  from  a  walk  through  the  camp  at 
night.  The  cooks  are  busy  over  to-morrow's  dinner.  Picking 
and  dressing  turkeys,  and  preparing  the  large,  glowing  ovens 
for  roasting.  The  irregularity 'is  overlooked,  in  view  of  the 
occasion.  The  preparations  are  so  vast  that  the  dinner  will 
be  cooking  nearly  all  night.  I  shall  be  able  to  give  you  the 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT.  153 

statistics  to-morrow.  To-night  I  only  know  that  it  looks 
as  if  an  army  were  to  be  fed  with  turkey,  and  another  one 
with  plum-pudding.  The  scene  is  a  busy  and  gay  one.  I 
have  also  been  to  see  my  sick  charges.  Incongruous  scenes 
for  such  close  association  !  but  we  happen  to  have  both  pic 
tures  at  once  in  camp.  Still,  I  think  we  grow  better,  and . 
have  only  thankfulness  and  hope  for  to-morrow." 

"  Thursday,  half  past  two  o'clock. 

"  Letter-writing  after  Thanksgiving  dinner  !  What  an 
absurdity  !  Yet  here  goes.  I  must  rise  on  the  wings  of 
imagination,  invoking  also  the  exhilaration  of  champagne, 
to  give  you  a  glance  at  our  day.  The  morning  rose  red 
and  glorious.  The  camp  was  gay,  and  the  men  all  jovial 
and  willing.  Last  evening  I  published  an  order  reciting 
the  Governor's  Thanksgiving  order,  and  General  Banks's 
order,  and  telling  the  Second  Massachusetts  that '  Thanks 
giving  day  would  be  observed  and  kept  by  the  officers  and 
men  of  this  regiment.  There  will  be  religious  services  at 
ten  o'clock,  to  be  followed  by  the  usual  Thanksgiving  din 
ner.  It  is  hoped  that  the  officers  and  men  of  the  regiment 
will  unite  in  reviving  all  the  memories  and  associations 
which  belong  to  the  time-honored  home  festival  of  New 
England,  and  in  public  thanksgiving  and  praise  for  all  the 
blessings  which  have  followed  them  since  they  left  the  homes 
which  this  festival  recalls.' 

"  Such  was  my  programme.  At  ten  o'clock  the  sun  was 
bright,  and  the  morning  like  summer.  We  had  a  service. 
The  reading  of  the  Proclamation,  the  singing  of  praise  by  a 
full,  deep-toned  choir,  a  jubilant,  patriotic  awakening,  exhor 
tation  from  our  chaplain,  then  a  gay  march  by  the  band, 
which  followed  the  benediction,  hastened  the  steps  of  the 
companies  as  they  returned  to  their  quarters.  I  then  im 
mediately  got  into  the  saddle  and  rode  off  to  see  the  Adju 
tant  and  Captains  Savage  and  Mudge,  whom  I  sent  yesterday 
to  the  hospitable  shelter  of  houses  up  at  Darnestown.  Found 


154  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

them  all  well  and  happy,  and  recovering.  Came  back,  vis 
ited  the  kitchens.  Turkeys  and  plum-pudding  smoked  and 
fragranced  from  them.  Tables  were  built  by  some  of  the 
companies.  A  New  England  turkey-shooting  was  going  on. 
Companies  B  and  C  bore  off  the  crown  of  victory  and  the 
turkeys.  I  then  went  over  to  Colonel  Andrews.  Then  I 
came  back  to  half  an  hour's  business,  and  so  to  dinner.  A 
brisk,  appetizing  morning.  But  before  I  speak  of  our  own 
dinner,  let  me  give  you  the  statistics,  the  startling  statistics 
of  our  regimental  dinner.  Hear  it :  — 

Turkeys.  Geese.  Chickens.  Plum-Puddings. 

95        IQi  Ibs.  76        81  Ibs.  73  95 

Weight    997^  Ibs.  646  Ibs.  164|  Ibs.  1179  Ibs. 

"  In  other  words,  about  half  a  ton  of  turkey,  nearly  as 
much  goose  and  chicken,  and  more  than  half  a  ton  of  plum- 
pudding.  There 's  richness,  as  Mr.  Squeers  would  say. 
The  statement  shows  at  once,  presumed  digestion,  appetite, 
and  courage.  It  is  hopeful,  —  or  will  it  prove  the  rashness 
of  despair  ?  But  then  our  own  dinner,  included  in  this 
general  statement,  was  as  follows  :  — 

"  A  twenty-pound  turkey,  etc.,  and  a  vast  plum-pudding, 
and  no  end  of  apple-pies,  etc.  I  ought  to  add,  that  many 
of  the  companies  had  their  nuts  and  raisins  and  apples. 
What  luxury !  We  sat  down,  a  small  party,  —  the  Chap 
lain,  the  Doctor,  the  Chaplain  of  the  Twelfth,  and  myself. 
Tony,  or  Antonio  Olivadoes,  our  ambitious  and  clever 
cook,  was  radiant  over  the  fire.  He  had  spent  most  of  the 
night  in  culinary  constancy  to  his  puddings  and  pies.  He 
invoked  attention  to  his  turkey.  i  Well  now,  Major,  con- 
siderin'  the  want  o'  conveniences  and  fixins,  I  think  it  '11 
taste  kind  o'  good ' ;  and  so  it  did.  I  opened  a  bottle  of 
champagne,  a  present,  and  gave  my  toast,  '  Luck  and  ab 
sent  friends.'  So  we  drank  it,  and  it  cheered  our  somewhat 
narrow  circle.  The  men  are  now  playing  ball,  and  it  will 
not  be  long  before  dress-parade  and  company  duty  will  re 
place  our  Thanksgiving  sensations.  Never  mind,  we  've  had 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  155 

a  good  time,  and  a  good  time  under  a  few  difficulties,  which, 
I  think,  only  sweetened  our  pleasure.  Such  is  our  Thanks 
giving  chronicle.  I  like  to  sit  and  fancy  your  home  dinner, 
and  to  preside,  in  imagination,  over  the  boiled  turkey  at  the 
foot  of  the  table.  I  hope  our  next  Thanksgiving  we  may  be 
all  together ;  but  if  not,  at  least  we  can  hope  to  be  all  as 
thankful  as  now.  Tony,  the  cook,  just  puts  his  head  into  my 
tent,  with  conscious  achievement  in  his  eye :  '  Well,  Major 
how  you  like  de  dinner  ?  I  was  up  all  night,  —  five  min 
utes  chopping  wood,  five  minutes  cooking,  —  I  did  hope  it 
would  be  nice.'  I  have  just  tickled  his  vanity,  and  he 
goes. 

"  I  think  I  may  have  a  letter  from  you  to-night,  but  this 
goes  by  the  mail  now.  God  bless  you  all  at  home,  and 
good  by." 

"  HEAD-QUARTERS  SECOND  MASSACHUSETTS  REGIMENT, 
Camp  near  Seneca,  Nov.  23,  1861,  Saturday  Evening. 

"  Yours  of  the  19th  is  in  my  pocket.  The  evening  has 
passed  pleasantly  under  its  influence.  The  camp  is  fast 
falling  asleep. 

"  I  last  wrote  you  just  after  dinner  on  Thanksgiving 
day.  The  rest  of  the  day  went  glibly  enough.  In  the 
evening  the  men  had  a  brisk  dance  to  the  music  of  the 
band,  and  the  next  morning  there  were  fewer  sick  men  than 
for  two  weeks  before.  Gladness  and  gayety  are  good  medi 
cines.  Friday  was  a  very  busy  day  with  me.  Among  its 
morning  incidents  was  a  visit  to  Generals  Hamilton  and  Wil 
liams.  General  Williams  quite  won  my  affection  by  saying, 
apropos  of  the  review, <  The  Massachusetts  Second  is  the  best 
volunteer  regiment  in  the  service.'  i  A  man  of  sense,'  was 
my  echo.  Our  two  new  lieutenants,  Grafton  and  Shelton, 
appeared  yesterday,  and  were  assigned  to  duty  the  next  day. 
They  were  eager  for  duty,  and  promise  well.  Give  Charley 
the  stockings  for  his  men  by  all  means.  I  rejoice  in  his 
effort  and  success.  I  am  amused  to  see  that  the  London 
Times  compares  Ball's  Bluff  to  Braddock's  defeat.  That 


156  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

was  my  first  exclamation.  A  regular  Braddock's  defeat ! 
Who  was  the  Braddock  ?  .  .  .  . 

"I  do  not  expect  to  come  home  at  all.  While  there  is 
anything  to  do  here,  I  certainly  shall  not  come.  Indeed,  I 
do  not  think  I  desire  it.  Three  years  or  the  war,  was  my 
enlistment ;  and  I  am  willing  to  stay  with  my  regiment  while 
it  lasts 

This  morning's  inspection  took  about  two  hours.  It  was 
a  thorough  one  and  satisfactory.  We  have  church  this 
afternoon,  unless  it  rains,  as  it  threatens  to  do. 

"  For  one,  I  have  no  sympathy  with  the  prisoners  at  Fort 
Warren.  I  desire  that  all  benevolence  and  sympathy  may 
flow  to  our  loyal  soldiers,  whose  hardship  is  quite  as  great. 
As  for  Mason  and  Slidell,  the  joke  is  so  good,  so  practical,  so 
retributive.  I  admire  tho  calm  irony  with  which  Mr.  Ev 
erett  wishes  them  a  short  residence  at  Fort  Warren.  That 
is  clever  and  bright,  and  politely  severe 

I  predicted  church  when  I  was  writing  this  morning.  Lo 
it  is  evening,  and  the  ground  white  with  snoiv  !  So  winter 
steals  upon  us,  and  we  have  a  snow-storm  instead  of  divine 
service.  Well,  camp  life  has  its  variety,  and  is  not  al 
ways  same.  I  confess,  as  I  look  out  through  the  flapping 
door  of  my  tent,  I  think  it  looks  as  little  like  invading  the 
South  as  any  scene  I  ever  looked  on.  White  and  heavy  falls 
the  snow,  —  I  hope  on  the  unjust  as  well  as  the  just,  on  both 
sides  the  Potomac !  Now  's  the  time  for  mittens  with  no 

holes  in  the  thumbs I  have  quite  a  long  letter  from 

.  She  is  full  of  the  glory  and  spectacle  aspect  of  the 

army  and  the  war,  her  visit  to  Washington  having  taught 
her  all  about  armies.  I  could  give  her  a  few  practical  les 
sons  that  would  unidealize  her  abruptly.  Never  mind,  to 
be  illusions  e  is  to  be  happy. 

"  I  hope,  in  view  of  the  dread  you  express  of  my  going 
to  Charleston,  where  they  fight  '.  without  giving  quarter,' 
you  will  be  pleased  at  the  imminent  prospect  there  seems  to 
be  that  we  shall  be  snowed  into  Maryland  till  spring.  How- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS   OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  157 

ever,  the  weather  is  so  fickle,  we  may  have  bright  sunshine 
to-morrow." 

"  Monday  Morning. 

"  Bright  and  cold.  The  snow,  a  thin  coating,  lay  crisp 
and  cold  on  the  ground  this  morning.  The  air  glistened  ; 
my  fingers  grow  numb  as  I  write  about  it.  Our  week  com 
mences." 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  26,  1861. 

"  If  you  are  to  have  another  letter  from  a  major  com 
manding,  I  suppose  it  had  better  be  written  to-night.  To 
morrow,  I  feel  sure,  will  bring  back  Colonel  Gordon,  and 
I  shall  very  gladly  shift  that  burden  to  his  shoulders.  There 
are  some  objections  to  holding  the  reins,  very  long,  of  power 
that  you  are  not  to  continue  in  the  exercise  of ;  and,  though 
I  must  say  the  Colonel  has  got  a  very  easily  managed  regi 
ment,  and  I  have  had  no  difficulty  in  my  path,  yet  the 
temptation  to  mould  things  to  your  own  will  is  a  strong  one, 
not  to  be  indulged  in  temporary  command.  On  the  whole, 
this  is  probably  better  for  the  regiment,  —  it  is  certainly 
safer  for  me.  The  month  of  November,  though  we  have 
spent  it  quietly  in  camp,  has  been  the  most  trying  one  to 
the  regiment  in  its  whole  history.  I  am  glad  to  be  able 
to  persuade  myself  that  we  stand  firmer  than  we  did  three 
weeks  since.  I  hope  we  shall  steadily  improve.  There  is 
a  hopeless  desperation  chilling  one  when  engaged  in  a  con 
test  with  disease.  The  unseen  malaria  has  such  an  advan 
tage  in  the  fight.  I  had  rather  meet  anything  for  the 
regiment  than  the  enemy  who  surprised  us  in  our  former 
camping-ground,  and  who  seems  hardly  yet  to  have  given 
up  beat.  Two  weeks  ago  I  had  something  as  much  like 
depression  as  I  ever  allow  myself  the  indulgence  of.  Now 
I  feel  quite  glad  again.  This  afternoon,  for  example,  a  blue, 
overcast  November  sky,  but  a  keen,  bracing  air,  we  had  a 
lively  battalion  drill,  which  went  quite  well.  The  regiment 
turned  out  full  companies,  and,  altogether,  looked  its  old 
self —  There,  I  was  just  in  the  midst  of  this  last  exul- 


158  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

tant  sentence,  when  what  should  happen  but  a  knock  at  my 
tent.  Enter  Captain .  '  Major,  two  men  of  my  com 
pany  are  very  sick  in  quarters,  and  ought  to  be  in  hospital, 
but  there  is  not  room.'  '  Well,  sir,  I  can't  make  room.' 
Then  the  same  complaint  from  another  captain.  I  send  for 
the  Doctor.  He  is  abed,  having  been  sick  for  the  past  three 
days.  I  send  for  the  Assistant  Surgeon.  He  says,  '  Yes,  it 
is  so ;  but  the  Brigade  Surgeon  promises  a  tent  soon.  The 
measles  cases  have  increased  within  two  days/ 

"  I  require  from  him  a  report  of  every  case  in  quarters, 
and  a  statement  of  how  many  sick  men  ought  to  be  in  hos 
pital.  This  is  the  nature  of  the  work  to  be  done.  To  make 
bricks  without  straw.  Our  sick  officers  have  not  yet  re 
turned  to  duty.  The  Adjutant  is  still  away.  I  have  to  look 
after  everything  myself.  Still,  I  do  insist  that  we  are  get 
ting  better.  A  week  on  a  high  piece  of  ground  three  miles 
from  the  river  would  put  us  all  on  our  feet  again.  But  as 
long  as  the  morning  sun  rises  only  to  quicken  the  fatal 
exhalations  from  this  pestilent  Potomac,  and  the  evening 
dews  fall  only  to  rise  again  with  fever  in  their  breath,  the 
contest  is  unequal  and  the  victory  uncertain.  "Well,  we 
can  only  hope  for  better  things,  and  be  thankful  for  what 
we  have.  You  will  see,  however,  that  the  constant  main 
tenance  of  military  efficiency  under  all  these  circumstances 
exacts  constant  effort.  I  rejoice  in  continued  health  and 
increasing  strength,  and  am  thankful  and  happy.  I  think, 
too,  that  our  experience  will  be  a  sort  of  seasoning.  One 
thing  is  certain,  —  we  cannot  have  the  measles  again  ! 

"  I  have  just  come  in  from  my  nightly  round  through  the 
camp  ;  and,  as  taps  have  sounded,  all  is  quiet.  I  sit  alone 
in  my  tent  a-thinkin'  o'  nothin'  at  all,  —  and  writing  about 
it,  too.  Yes,  I  can  tell  you  about  our  domestic  arrange 
ments,  —  I  mean  our  mess. 

"  We  have  intruded  upon  an  elderly  lady  who  lives  near 
our  lines.  She  has  given  us  her  parlor  and  the  use  of  her 
cooking-stove.  Tony  is  in  great  feather.  He  rejoices  in  all 
kinds  of  culinary  eccentricities. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  159 

"  The  old  lady,  meantime,  is  repaid  by  our  protection. 
She  confides  to  me  her  griefs  for  the  losses  of  fence-rails 
and  cabbages,  of  pigs  and  poultry.  This  happened  when 
a  former  regiment  was  here.  Now  she  is  safe.  Tony  and 
she  observe  an  armed  neutrality  over  the  common  cooking- 
stove.  This  evening  she  told  us  the  history  of  Jack  Cross, 
the  husband  of  the  lady  who  owns  the  house  where  Colonel 
Andrews  is  sick.  Jack  is  in  prison  —  at  Fort  Warren  per 
haps  —  as  a  traitor.  The  good  lady  described  his  capture. 
Said  she :  '  The  officers  came  to  me,  and  says  they,  "  Do 
you  know  of  Jack  Cross's  hanging  or  shooting  any  one  ?  " 
"  As  for  shooting,"  says  I,  "  I  've  known  him  from  a  boy, 
and  a  more  peaceable  man  I  never  knew  ;  and  as  for  hang 
ing,"  says  I,  "  I  never  knew  him  to  hang  anything  except 
a  big  black  dog."  Which  was  true,  indeed,  and  I  recollect 
how  the  dog  looked,  and  he  most  frightened  me  to  death. 
But  they  took  him.  He  was  an  unfortunate  man,  but  he 
was  a  good  neighbor ;  and  a  good  neighbor  can't  be  a  bad 
man.  But  this  business  has  got  him  into  trouble ;  but  I 
can't  seem  to  understand  it  nohow.  I  'm  for  the  Union 
and  peace  before  I  die.'  I  think  she  would  have  talked  till 
now,  had  we  not  left  the  table,  her  ideas  running  in  a 
beaten  track  of  puzzlement  and  dread.  She  evidently  does 
not  either  understand  or  enjoy  civil  war. 

"  I  said  our  camp  was  still.  I  ought  to  admit  that  the 
night  is  full  of  echoes  with  the  barking  cough  that  prevails, 

—  an  unwholesome  sound.     Good  night,  and  God  bless  you 
all  at  home." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  29,  1861, 
Friday  Evening. 

"  'T  is  a  misty,  moisty  morning,  and  cloudy  is  the  weather, 

—  a  hunting  morning,  with  no  game,  however.     Mr.  Motley 
and  Frank  and  Mr.  Robeson  will  tempt  Providence  and  trust 
the  rebel  highway  soon  on  their  way  to  Washington.      I 
must  send  you  a  line  by  them.     As  I  hoped,  and  wrote, 
Wednesday  afternoon  brought  the  Colonel  and  his  party.     I 


160  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

was  sorry  that  our  bright,  clear  weather  lowered  just  before 
their  arrival ;  and  cheerlessness  overspread  the  camp  at 
nightfall,  when  they  arrived.  It  was  pleasant  to  see  them. 
Their  visit  has  been  an  agreeable  one  to  us,  though  prob 
ably  not  full  of  exciting  pleasure  to  them.  I  have  got  both 
your  letters,  —  the  one  brought  by  Mr.  Motley  and  the  one 
sent  by  you  on  Saturday.  Your  Thanksgiving  was  as  I  had 
fancied  it,  and  I  am  glad  to  get  your  bright  and  faithful 
picture  of  it.  You  will  have  received,  ere  this,  my  account 
of  the  steady  improvement  of  the  regiment.  You  will 
know,  too,  that  I  am  now  in  perfect  health  myself,  and  I 
beg  that  you  will  put  aside  all  anxiety  on  my  account.  As 
for  coming  home,  it  is  now  out  of  the  question.  I  cannot  pre 
tend  to  have  felt  anything  of  '  that  stern  joy  which  warriors 
feel  in  foemen  worthy  of  their  steel,'  —  but  I  have  a  calm 
content  in  the  presence  of  hardship  and  discomfort,  and  in 
resistance  to  those  influences  which  assail  the  efficiency  of 
i  the  best  regiment  in  the  service.'  Again,  I  feel  a  satisfaction 
in  knowing  that  I  am,  and  have  always  been,  '  reported,'  ac 
cording  to  military  phrase,  '  for  duty  '  on  the  morning  regi 
mental  report !  Just  at  the  moment  when  the  duty  ceases 
to  be  pleasant,  I  do  not  wish  to  have  that  report  changed. 
I  am  aware  that  these  are  selfish  reasons,  and  I  know  also 
that  it  is  quite  likely  things  will  go  well  enough  without 
me.  But  here  I  am,  and  here  I  stay,  for  the  present. 
Colonel  Andrews  will  go  on  Monday,  I  hope.  Besides,  our 
Examining  Board  has  been  waiting  for  me  to  be  relieved 
from  command  of  the  regiment  to  commence  its  sittings, 
and  so  I  could  not  get  leave  to  go.  Voild  des  diffieultes. 
Mr.  Motley  can  assure  you  of  my  perfect  health.  Indeed,  I 
do  not  think  it  would  improve  it  to  run  home.  It  would 
certainly  change  my  settled  feeling  into  an  unsettled  one, 
and  so,  again,  the  consequence  follows.  I  think  that,  to  go 

to  a  Thanksgiving  party  at  Mrs.  's,  and  have  a  chat 

with  Mrs. ,  or  to  dine  with and  his  wife,  or  to  see 

another  pretty  Miss ,  or  to  bid  C good  by  as  he 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  161 

starts  out,  a  gay  cavalier,  to  escort  his  cousin  to  the  dance, 
or  to  sit  in  the  parlor  of  an  evening  at  home,  would  be 
fragrant  flowers  of  delight ;  but  then,  how  soon  they  would 
fade,  and  what  a  withered  nosegay  should  I  bring  back  to 
camp  with  me  ! 

"  But  I  also  feel  that  it  would  be  a  galling  irritant  to  go 
home.  The  Colonel  says  you  are  not  awake  to  the  war  in 
Boston.  Tameness,  irresolution,  pity  for  'political  prison 
ers,' —  that  is,  traitors  and  felons,  —  talk  of  restoration  by 
concession,  pratings  of  a  speedy  advance  on  the  Potomac, 
unmilitary  plans  for  military  movements,  etc.,  etc.  I  have 
got  anything  but  a  pleasant  picture  of  the  tone  of  things  at 
home.  Upon  my  word,  I  think  it  would  have  a  bad  effect 
upon  the  equanimity  which  I  cultivate  and  desire,  to  go 
about  much  at  home.  When  events,  whose  progress  and 
logic  are  unanswerable  and  persistent,  have  unravelled  the 
tangled  web  of  your  mystification,  and  taught  the  good  Bos 
ton  people  all  about  war,  then,  perhaps,  it  will  be  safe  for 
one  intent  on  its  prosecution  and  longing  for  its  results  to 
breathe  the  enervating  airs  of  your  placid  paradise.  Till 
then,  my  voice  is  still  for  war.  Everything  here  seems  to 
be  going  pretty  well.  Camp  life  has  no  changes  and  few 
incidents  to  amuse  you." 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  November  30,  1861. 

"  If  anything  were  needed  to  assure  my  decision  regarding 
a  visit  home,  it  could  be  found  in  the  experience  of  the  past 
two  days.  Yesterday  —  a  rainy  day,  by  the  way  —  I  was 
fully  occupied  with  questions  relating  to  the  sick,  and,  in 
the  afternoon,  by  a  session  of  the  Board  of  Claims.  To-day, 
field-officer  of  the  day.  It  has  been  a  bright,  windy,  drying 
day,  for  which  we  are  thankful.  A  tardy  wisdom  has  at 
length  decided  to  remove  the  division  of  General  Banks 
from  its  present  grotesque  position  to  the  neighborhood  of 
Frederick  City.  Within  easy  distance,  by  rail,  of  Harper's 
Ferry,  of  Baltimore,  and  Washington,  the  division  will  there 
11 


162  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

be  promptly  available  for  any  purpose.  It  will  be  placed  in 
a  more  healthy  position.  It  will  be  within  reach  of  sup 
plies.  It  will  be  so  far  permanent  that  it  can  make  itself 
comfortable  for  a  season.  How  it  will  get  there  is  quite 
another  question.  The  rains  of  the  past  week  have  made 
the  roads  almost  impassable  ;  and  to  move  a  whole  division, 
with  its  immense  trains,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles,  over 
swollen  watercourses  and  worn-out  roads,  seems  a  hopeless 
undertaking.  We  probably  commence  the  attempt  Tuesday 
morning.  It  is  certainly  a  move  in  the  right  direction,  and 
seems,  to  my  narrow  horizon,  made  a  month  too  late. 

"  To-day  a  part  of  our  sick  have  been  sent  off  to  the 
General  Hospital  at  Baltimore.  Preparations  were  made 
yesterday  by  the  Medical  Director  to  send  the  worst  cases 
from  the  whole  division. 

"  The  order  to  move  the  sick  down  to  the  canal  to  take 
the  boat  came  early  this  morning.  At  ten  o'clock  they  were 
moving ;  and  at  five  o'clock  this  afternoon  the  boat  was 
ready  for  them.  The  whole  day  they  waited  —  two  hun 
dred  sick  men,  in  wagons  and  in  discomfort  —  on  the  banks 
of  the  canal.  The  sight  was  most  irritating  this  afternoon 
when  I  rode  down  there. 

"  Just  at  nightfall  they  were  huddled  in,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men  to  one  canal-boat,  the  rest  sent  back  for  want 
of  room,  and  the  boat  moved  off.  Wretched  mismanage 
ment,  and  I  fear  great  suffering  as  its  fruit. 

"  In  fact,  the  whole  hospital  system  is  a  blunder,  if  not  a 
crime.  It  wants  entire  reorganization.  There  should  be 
no  regimental  hospitals.  What  can  a  regiment  do,  drag 
ging  sick  men  after  it  ?  How  can  a  regiment,  with  its  hos 
pital  tent,  take  proper  care  of  them  ? 

"  The  proper  system  would  be  to  have  hospitals  attached 
to  divisions,  all  the  sick,  except  trivial  cases,  sent  there,  and 
treated  by  surgeons  who  have  only  that  to  do.  Then  the 
regiment  would  be  free  from  its  greatest  embarrassment  in 
the  field.  Then  the  sick  would  not  die,  as  I  have  seen 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS    OP   WILDER   D WIGHT.  163 

them  do,  for  mere  want  of  warmth,  rest,  and  nursing.  As 
a  matter  of  organization  and  unity,  as  an  administrative 
question,  it  seems  as  clear  as  sunlight ;  but  we  work  along 
in  a  system  that  did  well  enough  for  an  army  of  fifteen 
thousand  men  scattered  in  barracks  and  garrisons  in  time 
of  peace,  but  is  utterly  inapplicable  to  a  vast  army  in  the 
field.  To-day's  blundering  movement  was,  however,  bad 
management,  even  according  to  this  false  system.  It  stirs 
one  up  to  see  it.  But  I  won't  preach  on  this  text  any 
more. 

"  I  hope  the  war  will  last  long  enough  to  give  us  an  army 
organized  according  to  all  the  wisdom  and  experience  of 
other  nations,  and  carefully  adapted  to  our  own  wants. 
What  a  splendid  creation  such  an  army  would  be  !  In  fact, 
how  plain  it  is,  to  any  one  who  watches  the  progress  of  things 
out  here,  that  a  soldier  is  an  artificial  mechanism,  that  an 
army  is  still  more  so,  that  for  a  nation  to  neglect  the  art 
which  produces  its  army  is  the  same  thing  as  for  a  man  to 
reject  the  exercises  and  discipline  which  promote  his  vigor. 
Well,  perhaps  we  shall  grow  wiser  as  we  grow  older ;  per 
haps  we  shall  blunder  in  some  other  direction. 

"  I  am  in  hopes  to  get  Colonel  Andrews  off  to-day  or  to 
morrow,  in  canal-boat,  to  Washington.  This  last  sentence 
is  written  Sunday  morning,  the  rest  being  Saturday-night 
reflections.  The  day  is  a  dark  and  threatening  one.  We 
shall  have  a  fine  march  to  Frederick  ! 

"  I  am  very  well  indeed,  and  there  is  no  news  with  us. 
Love  to  all." 

"CAMP  NEAR  SENECA,  December  2,  1861, 

Monday  Night. 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should  write,  except  that  Colo 
nel  Andrews  is  going,  and  can  take  the  letter.  It  is  a 
harsh,  cloudy,  wind-driven  night;  and  we  have  detained  the 
canal-boat  till  morning.  We  are  waiting  our  orders  to 
march  to  Frederick.  It  looks  like  snow,  and  altogether 
there  is  a  cheerful  prospect  of  a  march  before  us  !  I  expect 
to  awake  in  a  snow-storm. 


164  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  I  am  awaiting,  with  some  interest,  the  President's  Mes 
sage.  I  shall  like  to  see  how  he  will  pronounce  a  policy. 
One  thing  seems  to  me  to  be  clear.  He  must  leave  all 
political  questions  to  a  military  solution  and  settlement. 
Congress  must  do  the  same. 

"  There  is  a  method  in  events  which  must  result,  I  think, 
in  a  wise  and  practical  solution  of  the  negro  question. 

"  You  recollect  the  cloister  life  of  the  Emperor  Charles 
the  Fifth,  —  the  abrupt  transition  of  the  proud  king  from 
a  vast  and  absolute  sway  to  the  solitude  and  asceticism  and 
self-mortification  of  the  cloister.  I  want  to  read  the  clois 
ter  life  of  King  Cotton,  —  his  exile,  poverty,  and  penance. 
There  will  be  a  story  of  most  instructive  contrast.  It  is 
a  story  soon  to  be  written.  I  wonder,  too,  how  Congress 
will  bear  our  '  inactivity '  this  winter.  Clear  it  is  that  we 
must  be  inactive.  The  mere  movement  of  a  division,  with 
its  artillery  and  supply-train  and  baggage,  is  a  distinct 
teaching  that  active  field  operations  are  impossible  before 
spring,  on  this  line.  So  you  may  continue  to  think  of 
me  as  perfectly  safe,  and  as  hoping  for  liveliness  with  the 
buds  of  spring.  We  shall  have  tried  almost  every  phase  of 

army  experience  before  we  get  home,  I  fancy I  shall 

be  an  early  riser  to-morrow  morning,  and  so  must  bid  you 
good  night." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  165 


CHAPTER    XI. 

LETTERS   FROM   CAMP    HICKS,   NEAR   FREDERICK. 

"CAMP  NEAR  FREDERICK,  December  6,  1861. 

"    4   LL  well.      Had  a  glorious  march  to  Frederick,  and 
J[\_  have  a  perfect  camping-ground.     Will  write  as  soon 
as  I  get  to  rights." 

"  CAMP  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK,  December  7,  1861. 

"  When  I  scribbled  a  hasty  note  to  send  by  Colonel  An 
drews,  I  was  looking  grimly  forward  to  a  snow-storm.  That 
foreboding  was  premature.  In  its  place,  I  might  have  in 
dulged  midnight  orders  to  march,  and  a  winter's  morning 
to  start  in.  On  Monday  night,  at  eleven,  our  quiet  camp 
near  Seneca  was  invaded  by  a  mounted  orderly,  who  brought 
orders  for  an  early  start.  The  night  was  given  to  prepara 
tion.  Colonel  Andrews  was  to  go  off  in  a  canal-boat  at  six 
in  the  morning.  I  had  planned  to  escort  him.  Instead  of 
this,  I  was  obliged  to  content  myself  with  a  hasty  good-by 
at  the  house,  and  a  careful  packing  of  him  and  his  wife  in 
the  hospital  wagon,  and  starting  them  for  the  canal.  How 
cold  it  was  !  At  last  we  started  in  good  order.  The  morn 
ing  was  so  cold  that  horseback  was  penance.  I  marched  on 
foot,  leading  my  horse.  We  went,  by  a  new  road,  toward 
Frederick.  The  cold  that  nipped  our  ears  stiffened  the 
mud,  and  our  path  was  made  easy.  A  brisk  march  of 
seventeen  miles  brought  us  to  Barnesville,  just  under  the 
Sugar-Loaf  Mountain.  The  latter  part  of  the  way  hung 
heavy  on  the  legs  of  the  men,  and  they  straggled  badly.  So 
at  evening  in  the  village,  whither  we  went  supper-hunting, 

we  found  some  officers  of  the Massachusetts  boasting 

of  the  fine  marching  condition  of  their  men,  and  alluding  to 


166  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT. 

our  stragglers.  This  piqued  us.  We  were  assigned  the 
advance,  the  next  day,  unless,  as  General  Abercrombie  said, 
some  other  regiment  gets  started  first ! 

"  I  should  like  to  describe  our  camp  at  Barnesville.  It 
was  on  a  wooded  ridge.  The  night  was  intensely  cold. 
Colonel  Gordon  and  I  shared  a  tent,  and  we  put  up  his 
stove.  The  men  had  good  fires.  The  scene  was  wintry, 
and  the  experience  was  harsh.  The  order  was  issued,  '  Re 
veille  at  half  past  four '  !  !  The  men  got  to  bed  early.  At 
half  past  four  came  the  rattle  of  get  up.  Our  candle  was 
relighted,  our  stove  glowed  again,  a  big  fire  crackled  before 
the  tent,  our  hastily  built  straw-bed  aided  the  flames,  but 
the  weather  kept  the  keen  edge  on.  We  breakfasted  on 
some  coffee  borrowed  from  one  of  the  company  kitchens, 
and  some  bread  and  cold  chicken,  —  frozen  chickens.  Soon 
after  half  past  six  the  men  were  all  breakfasted,  the  wagons 
ready,  the  line  formed.  At  quarter  to  seven  we  were  out 
on  the  road  started.  The  sun  was  just  showing  an  inten 
tion  to  rise.  The  Colonel  and  I  walked.  He  led  off  at  a 
smacking  pace.  Our  rear-guard  was  made  up  of  picked 
men  under  Lieutenant  Sawyer,  an  energetic  officer.  There 
could  be  no  stragglers.  On  we  went  over  a  mountain  road, 
on,  on,  on  !  The  sun  came  up.  It  even  began  to  melt  the 
ice  a  little :  still  we  marched  on,  till  we  had  made  between 
ten  and  eleven  miles  without  a  halt !  A  short  rest  was  all 
the  impatience  of  the  Colonel  would  allow.  Onward  again. 
General  Abercrombie  here  overtook  us.  '  Great  marching,' 
said  he.  4 1  thought  you  had  missed  the  road.'  He  had 
no  idea  we  could  so  get  the  start  of  him.  On  along  the 
bank  of  the  Monocacy,  —  on  across  the  river  and  the 
railroad. 

"  The  cars  were  just  coming  in.  '  Hallo,'  says  one  soldier 
to  another  ;  '  what 's  that  ?  ' 

"  '  I  don't  know,  it 's  so  long  since  I  've  seen  it,  —  believe 
it 's  a  steam-engine.'  The  steam- whistle  screeched. 

We  halt  just  outside  Frederick  at  about  eleven  o'clock. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  167 

Fourteen  miles  with  knapsacks  in  four  hours  and  a  quarter  ! 
Beat  that  if  you  can,  over  a  mountain  road. 

"  The  Colonel  formed  the  line  in  a  grove,  and  the  men 
rested.  We  awaited  orders.  But  we  were  so  early  that  the 

orders  were  not  ready.  Two  or  three  hours  after,  the 

Regiment  came  along  with  thin  ranks.  The  Colonel  had 

told  our  regiment,  before  starting,  that  the  boasted 

they  marched  better  than  the  Second.  It  was  that  emula 
tion  which  made  us  march  so  well.  Now  the  men  enjoyed 
their  victory,  and  chaffed  the  late  regiment.  i  Tell  your 
colonel,'  says  one,  i  that  we  '11  lend  him  some  of  our  wagons 
to  help  him  along,'  <fec.,  &c.  I  -marched  the  whole  distance 
and  felt  finely.  So  you  may  know  I  am  well.  We  went 
into  camp,  after  recrossing  the  Monocacy.  Another  cold 
night. 

"  The  next  morning,  just  as  the  regiment  was  ready  to 
start  on  its  march  to  its  present  permanent  camping-ground, 
we  were  sitting  about  the  fire  on  a  hillside  overlooking  our 

camp,  when  up  came  R .  I  was  delighted  to  see  him, 

and  to  hear  from  home.  He  made  only  a  short  call  on  us, 
and  left  for  Frederick  just  as  we  started  for  our  new  camp. 
It  was  Thursday  morning.  We  marched  round  to  the 
southwesterly  part  of  the  city,  and  struck  the  Baltimore 
turnpike.  Our  camp  site  was  on  a  wooded  slope  facing  the 
south  and  the  sunshine.  The  latter  is  pouring  into  my  tent 
as  I  write,  this  fine  Sunday  morning.  We  were  soon  busy 
getting  into  camp.  I  have  been  up  to  Frederick  twice. 
The  first  time  I  went  to  General  Banks's  head-quarters,  and 
happened  to  be  invited  in  at  General  Shriver's,  the  Union 
man  of  Frederick.  I  found  myself  in  a  parlor,  talking  to  a 
young  lady  !  What  a  transition  ! 

"  Frederick  is  a  fine  old  town.  Our  band-leader  already 
talks  of  giving  concerts  there.  Our  thoughts  are  all  turn 
ing  on  peace  and  quietness. 

"  The  principal  duty  will  be  keeping  the  men  in  order, 
and  preventing  drunkenness.  Yesterday,  as  field-officer  of 


168  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D  WIGHT, 

the  day,  I  was  very  busy  at  it.  But  had  you  seen  our  Sun 
day  morning  inspection,  you  would  have  seen  order,  neat 
ness,  and  system  transplanted  with  no  check  of  growth. 
Opinions  may  vary  of  Colonel  Gordon,  but  his  administrative 
success  is  testimony  enough  in  his  favor.  I  wish  you  could 
see  our  camp.  Perhaps  you  will  one  of  these  days.  We 
have  had  glorious  weather  since  the  cold  abated.  It  is  In 
dian  summer.  At  last  I  have  actually  caught  that  evanes 
cent  and  supposititious  season.  We  have  had  the  Presi 
dent's  Message  and  all  the  reports 

"  I  hope  there  will  be  no  hasty  and  ill-considered  legisla 
tion  about  the  army.  The  volunteer  force,  as  it  stands, 
ought  not  to  be  put  on  the  same  footing  as  regulars.  A 
hasty,  extempore,  uneducated  army  made  permanent,  — 
what  folly ! 

"CAMP  HICKS,  December  9,  1861,  near  Frederick,  Maryland. 

"  To  sit  in  one's  tent  in  the  sunshine,  and  look  out  through 
the  grove  upon  a  lively  and  contented  camp,  is  very  little 
like  war.  Such  is  my  afternoon's  occupation,  or  want  of 
occupation.  I  can  hear,  too,  the  music  of  the  Star  Spangled 
Banner,  which  is  just  now  saluting  the  flag  which  has  been 
raised  at  General  Abercrombie's  head-quarters  near  by. 

"  I  went  into  Frederick  this  morning,  and,  as  I  came  over 
the  hill  which  slopes  down  to  the  Monocacy  Bridge  and  over 
looks  the  city  and  valley  of  Frederick,  I  could  not  but  enjoy 
the  scene.  There  lay  the  city,  with  its  spires  and  buildings 
clear  in  the  sunlight ;  and  the  whole  surrounding  valley 
looked  happy  with  its  bright,  white  farm-houses,  and  thrifty 
with  its  generous  barns. 

"  Peace  and  plenty  were  in  the  landscape.  Yet,  six 
months  ago,  both  were  threatened  by  the  terrorism  of  Seces 
sion,  and  the  growing  crops  then  feared  a  premature  har 
vesting. 

"  I  called,  this  morning,  on  the  Rev.  Mr.  — — ,  a  pleas 
ant  man.  He  was  cordial  and  friendly,  and  wished  me  to 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  169 

tell  Dr.  that  his  present  successor  at  Frederick  was 

true  to  the  flag,  and  loved  his  country.  The  experiences 
of  the  past  summer  have  tested  his  patriotism  severely.  I 

also  receive  this  evening  by  mail  a  note  from  Mrs. , 

who  is  in  Baltimore.  She  writes  to  ask  my  intervention  to 
protect  her  house,  which  has  been  occupied  for  military 
purposes.  I  shall  do  what  I  can  for  her,  but  the  plea  of 
necessity  is  one  that  knows  no  law  and  very  little  mercy. 
To-night  also  brings  me  what  I  rejoice  in,  —  two  letters  from 

you,  one  from  D ,  and  a  most  friendly  and  agreeable 

letter  from  Mr. .  I  could  not  resist  an  immediate  an 
swer  to  the  latter,  it  gave  me  so  much  pleasure 

"  It  has  been  as  warm  as  summer  here  to-day,  —  indeed, 
most  uncomfortably  so.  But,  of  course,  the  change  must 
come  soon,  and  winter  will  frown  upon  us  again. 

"  Tell he  is  as  right  as  a  tract  on  the  slavery  ques 
tion.  Keep  it  back.  Say  nothing.  Let  the  war  continue 
to  be  for  the  grand  purpose  which  first  inspired  it,  and 
which  has  united  and  quickened  a  whole  people.  The  in 
evitable  consequence  must  be  the  death-wound  of  slavery ; 
4  but  that  is  incidental,  and  must  be  natural,  not  forced. 

"  CAMP  HICKS,  December  11,  1861,  near  Frederick. 

"  I  am  building  a  house  this  morning.  It  is  well  for  a 
young  man  to  get  settled  in  life  ;  and  to  build  house  and 
keep  house  may,  in  general,  be  stated  as  the  sum  of  his 
whole  temporal  endeavor.  My  own  achievement  in  this 
direction  will  be  rapid  and  decisive.  Four  trees,  as 
scantling,  a  board  floor  on  them,  and  a  surrounding  pen 
four  feet  high,  are  now  in  progress.  Over  this  pen  my  tent 
will  be  pitched,  and  I  can  defy  the  storm.  It  is  a  structure 
thought  in  the  morning  and  acted  before  night.  It  is  not 
firmly  fixed  on  earth,  and  so  illustrates  the  frail  tenure  of 
our  hold  on  this  sunny  camp,  again  analogizing  life  itself. 
It  is  also  just  the  size  for  one.  In  this,  perhaps,  it  is  seri 
ously  defective,  though,  in  a  great  part  of  the  earnest  en- 


170  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

deavor  of  life,  it  is  not  bad  for  man  to  be  alone.  At  all 
events,  no  military  authority  indicates  a  wife  as  a  part  of 
camp  equipage.  I  have  called  my  immediate  business 
housekeeping.  Let  it  not  be  thought  that  a  regiment  is 
without  its  domestic  cares.  They  are  manifold.  To  make 
the  cook  and  the  steward  harmonize  is  more  difficult  than 
to  form  the  battalion  in  line  of  battle.  I  should  like  much 
to  greet  you  in  my  new  house,  and  have  a  family  party  at 
the  house-warming. 

"  We  are  moving,  too,  the  question  of  a  stable  for  one 
hundred  wagon-horses.  It  is  a  question  that  will  settle 
itself  shortly.  We  procrastinate  it  naturally  through  this 
warm  weather;  but  the  cold  will  soon  snap  us  up  again, 
and  then  we  shall  go  to  work  at  it.  But  this  uncertainty 
of  the  future,  which  every  rumor  aggravates,  does  not  favor 
preparation.  Political  economists,  you  know,  tell  us  that  a 
secure  confidence  in  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  the  fruits  of 
industry  is  a  condition  of  all  industrial  development,  and 
without  it  there  is  no  wealth.  We  are  illustrating  that 
maxim.  '  No  winter  quarters,'  says  McClellan.  i  Onward ! ' 
howl  the  politicians.  '  You  must  not  draw  lumber  or 
boards,'  echoes  the  quartermaster.  Such  is  our  dilemma. 
I  am  attempting  both  horns  by  my  extempore  device  of  half 
house,  half  tent. 

"  I  did  not  finish  my  house  yesterday,  but  this  (Thursday) 
evening  I  am  writing  at  my  new  table  in  my  new  house. 
It  is  perfectly  jolly.  I  take  great  pride  in  my  several  ingen 
ious  devices  for  bed,  washstand,  front  door  (a  sliding  door), 
&c.,  &c.  I  had  four  carpenters  detailed  from  the  regiment. 
They  gradually  got  interested  in  the  work,  and  wrought 
upon  it  with  love.  The  dimensions  are  nine  feet  square, 
and  the  tent  just  stretches  down  square  over  it. 

"  My  little  stove  is  humming  on  the  hearth  as  blithely  as 
possible.  I  received  last  night  your  pleasant  letter  of  Mon 
day,  the  first  which  has  come  direct  to  Frederick.  This 
gives  cheerful  assurance  of  a  prompt  mail 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  171 

"  So will  be  settled  before  Christmas.  He  is  to  be 

congratulated.  He  has  opened  for  himself  a  large  sphere 
of  duty  and  usefulness.  This  is  enough  to  kindle  the 
endeavor  and  invigorate  the  confidence,  and  so  he  is  fortu 
nate 

"We  have  had  the  development,  since  our  arrival  here, 
of  one  of  those  little  tragedies  that  thrill  a  man  with  pain. 
A  young  man,  who  came  out  as  a  new  recruit  with  Captain 
Abbott  to  our  unlucky  camp  at  Seneca,  was  down,  low  down, 
with  typhoid  fever  when  we  were  ready  to  march.  Our 
surgeon  decided  it  unsafe  to  move  him,  and  so  he  was  left 
in  the  temporary  hospital  at  Darnestown,  in  charge  of  the 
surgeon  there.  After  we  left,  the  brigade  surgeon  of  the 

brigade  decided  to  move  the  hospital  at  once  ;  packed 

the  poor  boy,  mercilessly,  into  a  canal-boat  with  the  rest ; 
took  him  up  to  Point  of  Rocks,  and  thence  by  rail  to  Fred 
erick  ;  spent  nearly  thirty-six  hours  on  the  way,  distance 
thirty  miles.  When  the  boy  arrived  here  he  was  almost 
gone.  Neglect,  exposure,  disease,  had  worked  their  perfect 
work. 

"  It  is  said,  and  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  the  statement, 
that  his  feet  were  frozen  when  he  was  taken  from  the  cars  ! 
He  died  soon  after  his  arrival.  You  may  have  seen  that 
the  newspapers  have  got  hold  of  that  disgraceful  blundering 
in  transporting  the  sick  to  Washington.  I  must  have  spoken 
of  it  in  a  former  letter. 

"  I  consider  the  Medical  Director  guilty  of  the  death  of 
our  young  soldier  just  as  much  as  if  he  had  deliberately  left 
him  alone  to  starve. 

"  It  is  such  incidents  as  this  that  expose  the  inefficiency 
of  our  whole  hospital  organization.  Alas  !  almost  every 
department  is  equally  listless  and  incapable.  But  the  suf 
ferings  of  the  sick  soldier  appeal  more  directly  to  the  heart 
than  other  shortcomings. 

"  Since  we  have  been  in  camp  here  we  have  had  a  court- 
martial  vigorously  at  work  punishing  all  the  peccadilloes  of 


172  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGIIT. 

the  march,  and  the  indiscretions  consequent  upon  a  sudden 
exposure  to  the  temptations  of  civilization  and  enlighten 
ment,  —  to  wit,  whiskey. 

"  In  my  tour  of  duty  yesterday,  as  field-officer  of  the  day, 
I  found  that  one  of  the  guard  posted  in  the  village  of  New 
market  had  stopped  a  pedler's  cart, -and  seized  a  quantity 
of  whiskey  intended  to  sell  to  soldiers.  The  pedler  was 
quite  ingenious.  He  packed  first  a  layer  of  pies,  then  a 
layer  of  whiskey-bottles,  and  so  on.  His  barrel  looked  as 
innocent  as  a  sucking  dove  on  top,  but  was  full  of  the 
sucking  serpent  within.  I  ordered  him  to  be  taken  out  in 
the  middle  of  the  main  street,  to  have  his  hat  taken  off,  his 
offence  proclaimed  to  the  people,  and  the  whiskey  de 
stroyed.  It  was  quite  an  effective,  and,  I  hope,  terror- 
striking  penalty 

"  It  is  now  Friday  morning,  —  bright,  but  cool.  This  fine 
weather  is  happiness  in  itself. 

"CAMP  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK,  December  15,  1861. 

"  Another  bright,  sunny  Sunday  ;  the  regiment  growing 
in  grace,  favor,  and  winter  quarters.  The  band  has  got  its 
new  instruments,  and  has  been  piping  melodiously  in  the 
moonlight  this  evening.  The  instruments  are  very  fine 
indeed 

"  To-morrow  morning  our  brigade  is  to  be  reviewed  by 

General  .  Napoleon,  as  the  newspapers  are  fond  of 

saying,  used  to  precede  his  great  battles  and  important 
movements  by  grand  reviews.  General  is  not  Napo 
leon.  Vbild  tout. 

"  The  Colonel,  since  we  got  into  this  new  camp,  has  been 
doing  a  good  deal  of  '  rampaging,'  and  with  excellent  effect. 
I  think  I  never  saw  the  regiment  in  better  condition.  The 
relaxed  discipline  consequent  on  sickness  and  the  march 
has  recovered  its  tone  completely.  We  have  had  a  court- 
martial  sitting  for  several  days,  and  the  men  have  been 
very  generally  and  impartially  punished  in  their  pay.  This 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  173 

is  good  economy  for  the  government,  and  a  sharp  lesson  for 
the  men.  Each  of  the  divisional  departments  —  the  com 
missary,  the  quartermaster,  the  medical  —  are  lame  and 
impotent. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  the  fact  that,  but  for  the  activity 
and  outside  zeal  of  our  quartermaster,  we  should  be  in 
rags  ? 

"  The  division  takes  no  care  of  us  ;  we  go  to  head-quarters 
at  Washington,  and  take  care  of  ourselves.  We  go  to 
Washington ;  but  the  theory  and  duty  is,  that  everything 
comes  to  us  through  the  division  department  here. 

"  This  has  never  been  true,  and,  as  I  said,  but  for  our 
irregular  and  enterprising  expeditions  to  Washington,  there 
is  little  we  could  get  for  ourselves.  Again,  what  do  you  say 
to  the  fact  that  to-day,  but  for  the  activity  of  officers  outside 
of  the  medical  department,  and  but  for  their  spending  money 
saved  from  other  sources,  our  hospital  tent  would  be  floor- 
less,  storeless,  and  flung  to  the  breeze  ?  Now,  however,  it 
has  a  nice  floor,  good  bunks,  and  a  warm,  cheerful  stove  ; 
and,  yesterday  morning,  at  inspection,  looked  as  neat  and 
comfortable  as  your  parlor.  No  thanks,  however,  to  the 
medical  men.  The  division  medical  director  don't  know 
to-day  that  our  typhoid-fever  patients  are  not  basking  in 
precarious  sunshine  on  the  bosom  — the  cold,  chaste  bosom 
—  of  unnatural  Mother  Earth,  after  a  sleepless  night  in  the 
pale  shadows  of  the  moon !  !  To  be  sure,  he  guesses  that 
the  Second  Massachusetts  Regiment  will  take  care  of  itself; 
but  while  they  are  issuing  stoves,  &c.,  at  Washington,  we 
are  buying  them  for  ourselves  here. 

"  Again,  a  brisk  little  stove  is  humming  in  almost  every 
tent  of  the  companies ;  many  of  the  tents  are  floored  :  all 
this,  however,  with  our  own  money,  — individual,  regimental 
enterprise,  not  divisional  or  departmental  care.  Such  is 
the  picture  we  present.  Add  to  this  that  all  this  outlay  and 
endeavor  is  adventured  by  us  in  the  face  of  a  blank  uncer 
tainty  of  the  future,  an  utter  darkness,  an  outer  darkness,  as 


174  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

to  whether  we  are  here  for  a  day  or  for  all  time,  and  you 
have  a  position  that  would  arouse  complaint,  if  we  allowed 
ourselves  to  grumble.  We  have  no  hint  from  head-quarters 
to  guide  us.  We  have  been  here  nearly  two  weeks  :  per 
haps  we  shall  get  advice  when  we  have  finished  our  action. 
Advice  to  act  on  is  what  we  want.  Head,  control,  direction, 
will,  organization,  is  what  we  miss.  I  speak  only  of  the 
sphere  in  which  we  move,  of  this  department.  It  is  a  part 
of  McClellan's  army,  however,  and,  as  such,  is  entitled  to 
better  guidance.  I  do  not  put  the  fault  on  General  Banks, 
but  on  the  crippled  condition  in  which  his  staff  and  depart 
ments  are  kept.  Of  this,  however,  I  am  not  in  a  position 
to  be  an  observer  or  a  judge.  I  can  speak  only  of  the  re 
sults  which  I  see.  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should  harp 
on  this  theme,  however.  We  get  on  finely,  only  I  like  to 
make  it  understood  that  we  do  so  over  obstacles.  This  is 
natural,  I  suppose. 

"  When  I  hear,  too,  all  this  talk  about  a  '  grand  army/ 
'  the  splendid  spectacle  our  country  presents,'  <fcc.,  <fec., 
i  what  a  terror  we  should  be  to  England,'  '  how  ready  we 
are  for  war,'  I  know  that  it  is  the  nonsense  of  ignorance 
that  men  are  talking.  '  Clear  your  mind  of  cant,'  says  Dr. 
Johnson. 

"  I  have  resumed  this  letter  since  last  night,  and  must 
now  get  ready  for  the  review  this  bright  Monday  morning. 
Have  you  read  Colonel  Harvey  Brown's  clear,  manly,  sensible 
despatch  from  Fort  Pickens  ?  —  his  statement  of  results,  — 
fruits  of  experience  ripe  and  real.  There  is  a  modesty,  di 
rectness,  absence  of  cant  about  it  that  stamp  the  man  a 
soldier  fit  for  command.  It  is  refreshing  to  read  such 

a  statement,  after  General 's  vaunting  return  from  Hat- 

teras ;  after  such  a  telegram  as  that  which  chronicled  Colonel 

's  braggadocio  ride  on  a  cannon  from  a  smart  little 

skirmish  near  Harper's  Perry,  which  is  called  a  '  great  vic 
tory  ' ;  after  the  many  magnificent  records  of  routine  exploits, 
which  surprise  our  volunteers  into  the  foolish  belief  that 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGIIT.  175 

they  are  sudden  heroes ;   after  the  constant  record  of  the 

movements  of  my  friend ,  who  is  a  first-rate  fellow,  and 

doing  a  good  work  with  too  much  noise  about  it.  These 
men  seem  to  be  all  attempting  a  '  hasty  plate  of  glory  J  as 
Colonel  Andrews  calls  it.  The  simple  discharge  of  duty, 
and  then  an  intelligent  attempt  to  learn  a  lesson,  and  do  bet 
ter  next  time.  Let  us  hope  for  imitation  of  this  Colonel 
Brown  of  the  regulars.  But  the  Colonel  puts  his  head  into 
my  tent  and  says,  '  Major,  the  line  will  be  formed  at  twelve 
o'clock/  and  so  I  must '  prepare  for  review.' 

Evening. 

"  There  is  something  gay,  inspiriting,  exciting,  in  a  fine 
review.  The  brigade  burnishes  its  equipments  and  perfects 
its  uniform.  It  also  puts  on  its  pride  and  its  peacock  feath 
ers.  All  is  elation  and  glorification.  Now,  though  humility 
is  at  once  a  grace  and  a  virtue,  its  modest  worth  has  no 
place  here.  Humility  never  '  prepares  for  review,'  or  '  pa 
rades  for  inspection.'  But  a  regiment  does  both.  So  we 
put  on  our  gayest  plumage  of  pride,  with  our  hats  and  feath 
ers  and  epaulettes :  the  band  shone  with  its  new  instru 
ments  ;  the  sun  vied  with  their  splendor,  perhaps  aided  it. 
The  drum-major's  silver  globe  rivalled  the  orb  that  it  multi 
plied.  Officers  and  men  were  ambitious,  confident,  elate. 
We  were  the  first  brigade  to  be  reviewed,  after  the  others 
who  disported  themselves  last  week,  —  of  course  to  surpass 
them.  I  need  not  describe  the  ceremony.  Everything 
went  well,  except  that  my  horse  gave  a  plunge  opposite  the 
General,  and  slightly  disconcerted  my  salute  ;  but,  as  I  say, 
pride  was  at  the  helm,  and  on  we  went.  The  Second  did 
itself  proud.  I  never  saw  it  march  with  more  steadiness,  or 
keep  its  line  better.  After  the  review  a  drill  was  ordered  ; 
and  here  our  regiment  proceeded  to  distinguish  and  empha 
size  itself.  We  had  a  brisk,  rattling,  double-quick  drill, 
and  were  the  observed  of  all  observers,  and  the  praised  of 
all  praisers  ;  so  that  when  we  came  home  to  read  our  news 
papers,  and  found  that  England  was  going  to  demand  satis- 


176  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

faction  and  compel  the  surrender  of  the  ambassadors,  we 
felt  all  ready  for  war  with  England.  Still,  I  cannot  believe 
in  all  this  bluster. 

"  The  right  of  search  and  seizure  is,  on  the  weight  of 
authority,  in  our  favor.  But  it  is  just  one  of  those  nice  and 
delicate  questions  that  will  affect  the  mind  of  the  seizor  dif 
ferently  from  the  seizee ;  and,  on  the  whole,  seems  to  me  a 
right  that  ought  not  to  be  exercised  except  in  a  very  tempt 
ing  case  like  this  one.  We  must  stand  to  our  guns,  and 
England  will  back  down.  I  hope  Charleston  has  been  burnt 
by  its  own  negroes.  That  would  be  a  felicity  of  Divine 
wrath  that  could  not  be  surpassed. 

"  I  have  received  notice  from  General  Hamilton  to  begin 
work  on  the  Examining  Board  to-morrow  (Tuesday),  the 
17th.  This  will  keep  me  busy  for  the  present ;  but  I  expect 
quite  an  amusing  time,  though  perhaps  a  little  monoto 
nously  so.  I  found  your  letters  on  my  return  from  review  ; 

one  from  you,  and  one  from  Colonel  Andrews We 

want  him  back ;  and  the  officers  and  men  constantly  ask  for 
him,  and  when  he  is  coming. 

"  I  have  only  time,  this  Tuesday  morning,  before  going 
into  Frederick,  to  bid  you  good  by.  Love  to  all  at  home. 
I  wish  I  could  hear  from  Howard." 

"CAMP  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK,  December  20,  1861. 

"  It  was  only  the  immediate  pressure  of  another  topic 
that  crowded  out  the  mention  of  the  arrival  of  the  box  of 
shirts  and  drawers,  &c.,  from  Mrs.  Ticknor.  They  were 
equally  distributed  among  the  men  needing  them  most. 
They  were  most  gladly  welcomed.  In  size,  shape,  and  sub 
stance,  they  are  all  we  could  desire.  The  gay-colored  hand 
kerchiefs  warmed  the  fancy  of  the  men,  and  were  eagerly 
snatched  at.  The  mittens,  too,  notwithstanding  the  fingei 
deformity,  were  grasped  by  eager  hands.  I  think  it  would 
reward  the  effort  of  our  friends  if  they  could  have  seeii  the 
opening  of  the  box,  and  the  scattering  of  the  clothing  to 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  177 

the  companies.  The  eyes  of  the  men  chosen  for  the  gifts 
glistened,  and  the  eyes  of  the  others  fell,  as  those  of  chil 
dren.  Indeed,  in  many  respects,  soldiers  are  like  children ; 
and  the  idea  that  there  is  a  box  from  home  with  a  present 
in  it  is,  you  know,  the  crowning  joy  of  childhood.  There  is 
a  certain  flavor  to  these  arrivals,  of  warmth  and  comfort,  that 
seems  to  dwell  with  peculiar  relish  on  the  mind.  They 
make  a  day  glad  and  cheerful.  But  I  must  protest  against 
this  form  of  '  soldier's  mitten.'  Make  a  good,  honest  mitten, 
in  which  there  shall  be  no  aristocracy  or  seclusion  among 
the  fingers,  but  where  they  may  dwell  together  in  unity. 
When  the  man  is  to  use  his  gun  he  won't  wear  a  mitten. 
At  other  times  he  wants  the  old,  warm  mitten,  not  this 
eccentric  innovation.  By  this  criticism  I  do  not  wish  to 
discourage  the  sending  of  mittens  of  this  or  any  other  shape. 
We  want  those  of  any  shape.  I  speak  only  in  the  interests 
of  science  and  truth. 

"  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  regiment  this  evening  at 
parade.  We  got  fresh  white  gloves  for  the  men  to-day  ; 
and  the  steady  line,  with  its  regular  and  precise  movement, 
the  shining  brass  of  the  equipments,  and  general  neatness, 
was  a  fine  sight.  Our  old  uniforms,  after  all  their  service, 
look  better  than  most  new  ones.  General  Banks  was  pres 
ent,  and  afterwards  came  up  and  admired  my  tent-house. 

"  My  friend  Colonel  Geary  has  gone  back  to  Point  of 
Rooks.  General  Hamilton  is  off  to  Williamsport,  and  the 
Board  will  meet  again  '  some  day  next  week.' 

"  I  enjoyed  Colonel  Geary's  talk  very  much.  He  has 
seen  a  good  deal  of  rough  life  ;  was  a  colonel  during  the 
Mexican  War,  then  a  Californian,  and  the.  last  alcalde  of 
San  Francisco,  then  a  governor  of  Kansas.  He  speaks  of 
events  of  which  he  was  himself  no  small  part. 

"  Colonel ,  of  the  Sixteenth  Indiana,  is  a  character, — 

a  tall,  gaunt  Western  lawyer  turned  colonel.  He  has  just 
returned  from  a  visit  to  Washington  and  his  home.  Speak 
ing  of  the  crowds  of  officers  and  soldiers  who  throng  Penn- 
12 


180  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

of  taking  good  care  of  our  army,  and  saving  it  up  for  spring. 
Events  are  favoring  us  rapidly  now  of  their  own  accord. 

"  The  English  question  does  not  yet  take  shape  enough 
to  enable  one  to  judge  of  it.  I  have  no  fear  of  a  war  with 
England.  The  cause  is  inadequate.  The  right  of  search 
and  seizure  is  one  that  I  hope  we  shall  exercise  sparingly. 
The  game  is  not  worth  the  candle.  Still,  I  enjoy  the  joke 
of  the  seizure  of  Slidell  and  Mason,  and  am  curious  to  see 
the  ground  of  England's  vigorous  protest.  England  is  base 
and  mean  in  her  treatment  of  us ;  and  if  we  were  only 
stronger,  I  should  enjoy  a  war  with  her.  As  it  is,  I  sup 
pose  we  must  wait,  like  Dr.  Winship,  till  we  have  trained  a 
couple  of  years,  and  then,  perhaps,  we  shall  be  up  to  a 
fight  with  her. 

"  It  really  seems,  this  evening,  as  if  winter,  Northern 
winter,  had  come.  If  he  visits  Manassas  as  he  does  Fred 
erick,  how  the  Rebels  must  be  shivering  in  their  shoes,  if, 
indeed,  they  have  any  shoes  to  shiver  in. 

"  Howard's  position  I  rejoice  in,  I  quite  believe  that  he 
will  rise  in  his  regiment  and  see  service.  I  repeat  my 
thanks,  and  wish  you  Merry  Christmas  and  Happy  New 
Year ! " 

"  CAMP  HICKS,  December  25,  1861,  Christmas  Morning. 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  '  A  merry  Christmas,'  said  I  to  myself, 
for  want  of  a  larger  family-circle,  as  I  put  my  head  out  into 
the  morning  while  reveille  was  rousing  the  camp.  And  into 
a  brisk,  crisp  morning  did  I  walk  as  I  stepped  from  my 
tent.  The  moon  had  not  yet  lost  its  flame,  though  the  east 
was  warming  to  receive  the  coming  sun.  A  light  fall  of 
snow,  sent  by  Heaven  to  gladden  the  day,  had  whitened 
tents  and  ground  alike.  Soon  the  sun  kindled  it  into  a 
Christmas  glisten  and  sparkle.  Yes,  the  scene  was  the 
traditional  holiday  dress  of  the  season.  And  now,  as  I  sit 
and  write,  my  ears  are  full  of  the  mellow  music  of  Auld 
Lang  Syne  from  the  band  at  guard-mounting.  I  believe  I 
am  somewhat  sensitive  to  the  aspects  and  influences  of  air 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  181 

and  sky  and  landscape.  This  out-door  life  serves  only  to 
quicken  and  confirm  such  tendency.  I  am  always  apt  to 
thank  God  for  a  fine  day,  through  which  everything  is  bright 
and  promising.  And  Nature  having  put  on  her  gayest  winter 
merriment,  I  share  her  gladness.  So  I  give  you  all  at  home 
a  Merry  Christmas  in  this  missive,  and  here  's  a  health  to 
next  Christmas  with  the  ivar  over. 

"  Yet,  even  on  this  merry  morning,  I  have  a  shadow, 
which,  I  hope,  is  a  mere  distemper  of  the  fancy.  It  comes 
from  the  sullen  aspect  of  the  English  news.  I  start  with 
the  faith  which  I  cherish,  that  there  can  be  no  war  with 
England  unless  she  is  obstinately  bent  thereon.  There  is 
no  adequate  cause.  But  all  this  preparation,  all  this  arm 
ing  and  bluster,  really  gives  an  air  of  probability  to  the 
suggestion  that  she  madly  desires  to  seize  the  pretext  and 
provoke  a  contest.  I  do  hope  not ;  for,  with  fair  play,  we 
are  sure,  in  the  opening  spring,  of  rapid,  inspiriting,  hon 
orable  success.  Witness  McCall's  cleverly  managed  affair 
at  Drainsville.  Its  conception  and  execution  alike  skilful. 
It  contains  proof,  too,  that  our  superior  armament  and 
equipment  will  tell  on  every  fair  field 

"  The  incidents  of  the  last  year  have  frightened  me  out 
of  what  little  tendency  to  prophecy  I  may  have  had  ;  but 
nothing  save  this  cloud  from  England  could  dispirit  the 
hope  with  which  I  look  forward  to  our  coming  contest  with 
the  Rebellion 

"  Will  not  our  day  come  for  a  chance  at  the  enemy  ? 
Again  I  hope.  There  is  no  news.  I  am  busy  about  the 
Examining  Board  ;  I  am  assailed  by  several  perplexities 
within  the  regiment ;  I  am  ennuied  with  inaction.  But  I 
am  well,  and,  on  the  whole,  content.  I  am  glad  you  should 
have  a  visit  from  Colonel  William. 

"  My  sergeant  says  :  '  I  saw  your  brother,  Colonel  D  wight, 
at  the  office,  sir  !  He  's  a  splendid  officer,  sir  ! '  So  echo  I. 
Love  and  good  wishes  to  all." 


182  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

"  CAMP  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK,  December  29,  1861, 
Sunday  Evening. 

"  We  are  drinking  the  lees  of  the  old  year !  It  is  the 
penitent  reminiscent  season:  We  may  look  back  along  the 
furrow  that  our  little  individual  ploughshare  seems  to  us  to 
be  making.  Few  of  us,  indeed,  can  see  that  the  past  retains 
the  mark  of  our  labor.  All  of  us,  however,  can  whip  up 
our  teams  on  New  Year's  morning,  and  open  a  new  furrow 
in  a  new  field,  or  plough  the  same  ground  over  again,  with 
new  zeal. 

"  Such  is  the  illusion  of  hope,  and  so  glad  are  we  to 
postpone  repentance  another  year.  And,  indeed,  this  bright 
Sunday  morning  wins  one  hopeward. 

"  Since  Christmas  morning  I  have  been  busy  with  our 
Examining  Board.  The  work  is  amusing  ;  but  it  is  also 
pitiable  to  see  what  ignorance  and  incapacity  are  to  be  weeded 
out  of  the  army. 

"  Yesterday  we  had  a  visit  in  camp  from  Mr.  and  Mrs. 

.  You  recollect  charming  Miss .  Well,  she  shone 

like  a  star  upon  our  darkness.  Her  presence  in  my  tent, 
which  she  honored,  has  left  a  sort  of  halo  which  cheers 
it  still.  The  first  glimpse  of  womanhood  and  loveliness  I 
have  had  for  an  age,  as  it  seems.  The  past  is  so  crowded 
that  it  seems  very  distant. 

"  The  Drainsville  '  affair  '  turns  out,  in  the  magnitude  of 
its  consequences,  a  battle  and  a  defeat. 

"  '  lo  Triumphe '  !  !  McClellan  promises  Porter's  division 
an  occasion,  shortly,  to  show  by  fighting,  as  well  as  in  re 
views,  that  they  are  soldiers.  This  by  his  Christmas  order. 
Who  knows  but  my  house  which  I  begin  to  build  to-morrow 
will  stand  rather  as  a  monument  than  as  a  dwelling  ? 

"  I  must  say  I  think  the  tonic  of  victory  would  be  of 
most  happy  and  invigorating  influence.  Give  me  a  little 
of  the  '  ecstasy  of  strife.'  Bother  this  constant  rehear 
sal. 

" has  caught  the  cavalry  complaint,  and  is  off  for  a 


LTFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  183 

captaincy.     So  we  go.     The  Second  radiates  its  good  influ 
ence,  and  every  new  enterprise  borrows  our  light. 

"If  we  could  only  have  the  baptism  of  battle,  perhaps 
these  young  men  would  not  be  in  such  haste  to  leave.  Good 
by,  and  a  Happy  New  Year  to  all  at  home." 

"CAMP  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK,  December  29,  1861. 

"  DEAR  FATHER,  —  I  wish  you  a  happy  and  prosperous 
New  Year,  and  I  wish  that  I  could  hope  to  do  something  to 
help  make  it  so.  But,  out  here  in  my  frontier  helplessness, 
I  can  only  receive  favors,  not  do  them. 

"  It  will,  I  trust,  be  a  happy  day  for  all  of  us  when  the 
regiment  has  lived  its  life  and  done  its  work,  and  can  return 
in  peace.  Such  is  my  drearn,  though  it  seems  distant 

"  I  have  just  read  the  capitulation  and  surrender  of  Ma 
son  and  Slidell.  Seward's  letter  is  masterly,  his  conclusion 
dignified  and  perhaps  just.  His  forbearance  to  hold  on  to 
them  because  they  are  not  worth  it  is  a  stroke.  On  the 
whole,  I  am  well  pleased.  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 


184  LIFE   AND   LETTERS    OP   WILDER  DWIGHT. 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

LETTERS  FROM  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK.  —  CHARLES- 
TOWN,  VIRGINIA. — CAMP  NEAR  BERRYVILLE.  —  CAMP  NEAR  WIN 
CHESTER. 

"CANTONMENT  HICKS,  January  5,  1862,  near  Frederick. 

AR  MOTHER,  —  The  New  Year  is  fairly  open,  yet 
my  pen  has  been  silent.  I  would  have  had  it  other 
wise,  but  have  been  prevented  writing  by  a  sudden  call  to 
Washington.  There  I  saw  Colonel  William,  who  was  as 
critical  and  hypercritical  as  possible.  I  enjoyed  his  discus 
sions  very  much.  His  spirit  and  go  are  delightful.  He  will 
take  his  regiment  wherever  men  can  go,  if  they  only  give 
him  a  chance.  We  had  a  pleasant  time,  looking  over  his 
books,  and  talking  about  war  and  home 

u  The  effect  of  my  visit  to  Washington  was  to  fill  me  with 
forebodings ;  but,  as  I  won't  stay  filled,  I  am  resuming  my 
buoyancy  again.  Yesterday  there  was  a  great  flurry.  I 
had  come  up  to  Frederick  to  church,  and  was  enjoying  the 
service  much.  General  Banks  was  called  out  of  church, 
and  we  found  that  Jackson  was  threatening  Hancock,  and 
aiming  to  destroy  the  railroad  bridges  near  by.  An  order 
was  immediately  issued,  '  Two  days'  rations  in  haversack, 
and  be  ready  to  march.'  I  did  not  allow  it  to  disturb  me, 
but  this  morning  the  Third  Brigade  went  off  in  a  snow-storm, 
before  light,  to  Williamsport.  We  are  left  quiet ;  and,  as 
I  consider  it  all  a  mere  scare,  I  am  glad  we  were  not  aroused 
by  it. 

"  Winter  quarters  are  pretty  precarious,  however.  We 
are  too  far  from  the  Potomac.  This  division  is  nowhere. 
It  is  liable  to  go  anywhere,  and  hence  is  unfortunate.  One 
regiment  of  the  Third  Brigade  got  back  from  Williamsport 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OP   WILDER   DWIGHT.  185 

day  before  yesterday  ;  now  it  is  off  again  the  same  thirty 
miles  through  the  snow.  That 's  generalship,  ain't  it  ? 
Who  is  to  blame  ?  No  one,  of  course.  Bah  !  .  .  .  . 

"  I  wish  you  all  a  happy  New  Year  ;  and  as  for  us  in  the 
army,  I  wish  us  all  a  fghting  New  Year." 

"CANTONMENT  HICKS,  near  Frederick,  January  7,  1862. 

"  It  is  this  Tuesday  evening  my  stove  is  humming  in  my 
new  house.  Talk  of  luxury  !  —  what  is  comparable  to  a 
log-house,  with  windows  and  doors,  with  shelves  and  tables, 
and  a  large,  grand  porch  for  an  entrance,  and  in  the  Colo 
nel's  half  of  the  house  an  open,  old-fashioned,  generous, 
glowing  fireplace !  You  should  see  the  architectural  pro 
portions  of  our  new  home.  You  would  hardly  believe  it  a 
week's  work  of  our  wood-choppers  and  masons  and  carpen 
ters.  Yet  so  it  is.  I  shall  hope  to  send  you  home  a  photo 
graph  of  it.  We  were  within  a  narrow  chance  of  leaving  it 
the  other  day,  but  now  we  have  subsided  again  into  tranquil 
housekeeping  and  camp  life.  I  have  Colonel  Andrews  living 
with  me,  and,  indeed,  took  the  house  rather  with  reference 
to  him  than  myself.  I  wanted  a  roof  to  put  him  under  on 
his  first  taste  of  exposure.  My  man  John,  who  is  quite  a 
character,  takes  great  delight  in  the  house.  He  thinks  my 
half  better  than  the  Colonel's,  though  his  is  somewhat  larger. 
4  It  is  more  comformblor  nor  the  Colonel's,  sir,  and  not  so 
desolate  like,'  is  his  description  of  my  cosiness.  The  Third 
Brigade  went  off  on  that  alarm  toward  Hancock  ;  and,  as  I 
surmised,  the  errand  proved  fruitless.  We  are,  however, 
gathering  hope  of  progress  in  the  army.  This  condition  of 
faith  in  things  not  seen,  and  hope  without  substance,  is  not 
inspiriting.  The  undertone  of  rumor  in  Washington  was 
very  strong  in  the  direction  of  activity.  I  am  coming  to 
regard  an  early  advance  of  our  army  as  a  political  and  moral 
necessity,  whether  it  is  physically  possible  or  not.  The 
achievement  of  the  impossible  is  the  duty  and  privilege  of 
greatness  ;  and  now  is  certainly  McClellan's  opportunity. 


186  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  Mrs.  Ticknor  did  me  the  honor  to  send  me  a  pair  of 
stockings.  I  wrote  yesterday  to  acknowledge  their  receipt. 
The  weather,  which  has  been  bitter  cold,  is  now  moderating, 
and  the  tents  do  not  shiver  as  they  did." 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  January  10,  1862. 
Near  Frederick,  Maryland. 

"  Napoleon  said,  '  Marlborough,  while  he  gained  battles, 
ruled  cabinets  and  guided  statesmen.'  I  question  much  if 
our  General,  whatever  may  be  the  future  record  of  him  as  a 
battle-victor,  will  ever  excite  the  praise  of  ruling  cabinets  or 
statesmen.  My  impression,  which  I  cannot  shake  off,  is, 

that  McClellan  fails  to  be  master  of  the  whole  position 

His  admirers  all  say,  '  Wait  till  he  takes  the  field.  He  will 
whirl  and  sweep  his  enemies  before  him  like  a  storm-king.' 
I  hope  so ;  but  meanwhile,  in  the  organizing  and  prepara 
tory  season,  whose  opportunity  is  now,  his  impulse  is  not  as 
widely  or  as  directly  felt  as  I  could  wish.  This  seems  a 
tangible  and  real  defect,  whose  correction  ought  to  be  pos 
sible. 

"  It  is  with  such  considerations  as  this  that  our  minds 
naturally  busy  themselves  at  this  time.  In  this  seclusion 
one  is  apt  to  get  under  the  influence  of  moods  or  rumors, 
and  to  exaggerate  or  create  facts  ;  but  I  seem,  to  myself,  to 
notice  a  great  want  of  tone  and  confidence  in  the  people  and 
in  tho  army.  This  may  not  be  so.  Certainly,  however,  Con 
gress  is  as  utterly  beneath  the  emergency  as  possible. 

"  After  all  the  flurry  of  last  Sunday,  we  are  again  hope 
lessly  quiet.  This  is  exactly  according  to  my  faith,  and  I 
am  sorry  that  you  should  have  imagined  an  anxiety  for  me, 
as  your  last  letter  indicates.  Don't  mind  the  telegraph  ; 
you  can  really  judge  nothing  by  it. 

"  You  will  see,  by  the  date  of  my  letter,  that  our  camp  is 
now  changed  to  a  cantonment,  by  orders  from  brigade  head 
quarters.  The  huts  and  houses  have  so  far  outnumbered 
the  tents  that  this  nomenclatorial  effort  of  the  General  is 
excusable.  Still,  we  are  a  camp,  in  my  view,  and  not  a 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  187 

cantonment ;  though,  of  course,  I  date  my  letter  according 
to  the  order." 

"CANTONMENT  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK,  January  13,  1861. 

"  *  Si  le  combat  est  pre>u,  la  troupe  se  met  en  grandc 
tenue ;  elle  doitcette  politesse  a  un  ennemi  qu'elle  estime.' 

"  Dufour  gives  this  among  the  rules  for  combats  of  in 
fantry  against  infantry. 

"  What  a  charming  courtesy  !  what  French  politeness ! 
Full  uniform  is  the  proper  compliment  to  be  paid  to  an 
enemy  that  you  esteem.  After  all,  none  but  a  Frenchman 
could  have  hit  upon  that  rule,  or  its  reason. 

"  But  I  have  news  for  you.  Was  it  not  Sunday  when  I 
wrote  ?  And  I  forgot  to  mention  that  our  band  was  to  give 
a  grand  concert  on  Monday  evening.  Spiegel,  our  band 
leader,  had  been  ambitious,  and  the  Colonel  encouraged  him 
in  his  scheme.  The  result  was  even  better  than  our  hope. 
The  hall  was  crowded.  All  the  beauty  and  fashion  of  Fred 
erick  were  there.  Our  band  showed  finely.  Altogether, 
there  was  Sclat  in  the  concert.  The  whole  closed  with  Hail 
Columbia  and  the  Star  Spangled  Banner.  You  would  be 
surprised  to  see  with  what  hungry  ears  they  listen  to  Yan 
kee  Doodle  in  this  country.  Those  short-sighted  persons 
who  advise  disbanding  the  bands  would  disarm  our  army 
of  a  great  strength. 

"  I  have  found  to-day  that  Frederick  is  echoing  the 
praises  of  the  Massachusetts  Second.  We  even  think  of  a 
Promenade  Concert  next  week.  So  do  not  turn  your 
thoughts  in  regarding  us  to  the  discords  of  war,  but  rather 
to  the  mellowest  harmonies  of  peace. 

"  Again,  art  is  giving  us  repute  in  another  direction. 
Private  D'Avignon,  of  Company  I  (a  reduced  artist,  and  too 
good  for  a  soldier),  is  to  have  the  honor  to  draw  a  picture 
of  General  Banks.  So  you  see  that  we  are  not  occupied  as 
your  fancy  would  have  us. 

"  I  have  a  very  pleasant  letter  from  you  to-day.     I  think 


188  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

the  question,  whether  I  have  found  a  profession,  or  only  lost 
one.  is  premature.  I  want  no  unripe  fruit,  and  I  think  I 
must  possess  my  soul  in  patience  and  in  hope. 

"  I  trust  father  is  not  much  dispirited.  Let  him  wait  a 
little  longer,  and  perhaps  we  shall  see  something  done. 

"  I  enclose  you  Colonel  Andrews's  artistic  plan  of  our 
house.  He  made  it  at  my  request.  The  dimensions  are 
twenty-four  feet  by  eighteen  feet.  It  is  a  wonderful  house, 
and  a  great  comfort  this  cold  and  snowy  night." 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS  (so  called),  January  17,  1862. 

"  I  had  a  corpulent  little  letter  from  you,  —  one  actually 
swelling  with  agreeable  importance.  I  hope  Mrs.  Ticknor's 
surprise  at  my  acknowledging  the  present  of  the  stockings 
was  not  displeasure.  I  thought  so  long  a  pair  of  stockings 
would  bear  a  short  note ;  and  I  really  wanted  the  opportu 
nity  to  express  my  gratitude  for  the  service  she  had  done 
us.  You  see  a  letter  from  no  less  an  authority  than  George 
Washington  suggests  exactly  the  counterpart  of  the  scheme 
of  benevolence  of  her  association,  —  an  extra  shirt  for  the 
soldier. 

"  Life  lags  along  with  us.  It  has  its  family  cares  and 
its  family  jars ;  but,  on  the  whole,  all  is  well ;  and  the 
lengthening  days  already  begin  to  promise  the  coming 

spring.     is  not  right  in  his  idea  that  I  do  not  want  to 

come  home ;  but  I  have  never  seen  the  time  when  I  could 
properly  do  so,  and  am  quite  content  to  wait  till  such  a 
time.  I  should  prefer  to  have  activity  and  success  precede 
my  visit.  I  am  quite  busy  with  my  duties  on  the  Examin 
ing  Board,  and  there  seems  no  limit  to  the  amount  of  work 
provided  for  us.  The  army  certainly  needs  a  great  deal  of 
weeding  out  among  its  officers. 

"  I  find  General  Hamilton  and  Colonel  Geary  very  agree 
able  associates.  The  former  is  really  a  splendid  man,  and 
a  fine  officer, —  educated,  self-reliant,  brave.  I  have  great 
confidence  in  him,  and  wish  our  regiment  were  in  his  brig- 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  189 

ade.  General  Hamilton  is  from  Wisconsin,  where  he  went 
a  few  years  ago  on  resigning  from  the  army 

"  I  hope  father  is  regaining  his  confidence  in  McClellan. 
You  see  the  telegraph  says  that  he  has  persuaded  the  Con 
gressional  Committee  into  content,  after  spending  the  day 
with  them.  I  think  father  ought  to  grant  him  another 
lease  of  hope  and  confidence  ;  but  for  these  rascally  con 
tractors,  swindlers,  defaulters,  and  other  leeches  I  have 
only  hatred  and  contempt.  A  vigorous  and  lively  gallows 
is  what  this  country  wants  now. 

"  Any  change  in  the  War  Department  is  a  change  for  the 
better.  I  should  have  been  glad  to  see  General  Banks  there, 
however.  I  have  great  faith  in  his  ability  and  statesman 
ship,  and  in  his  thorough  comprehension  of  this  Rebellion. 
But  as  a  general  in  the  field  he  has  not  fair  scope  for  his 
powers  yet.  Perhaps  it  may  come,  however." 

"HEAD-QUARTERS  EXAMINING  BOARD,  January  21,  1861. 

"  It  has  rained  and  hailed  and  sleeted  for  the  past  four 
days.  We  are  kept  under  marching  orders,  but,  I  think, 
with  no  view  of  an  immediate  movement,  though  it  cannot 
be  long  before  we  shall  be  called  on  to  make  ourselves  use 
less  or  useful,  according  to  our  guidance. 

"  I  understand  your  state  of  suspense  as  to  the  army. 
For  myself,  I  can  see  no  other  wisdom  than  patience  and 
faith.  I  confess  that,  now  and  then,  this  seems  difficult ; 
but  whether  McClellan  will  not  vindicate  himself  is  not  so 
clear  ;  and  if,  when  our  army  moves,  it  moves  in  organized 
obedience  to  a  single  will,  the  wonder  will  not  be  that  so 
much  time  has  been  spent  in  preparation,  but  that  the  prep 
aration  has  been  made 

"  While  I  write  this  letter,  the  examination  of  an  unlucky 
lieutenant  is  going  on.  The  young  man  is  wandering  now 
through  the  mazes  of  battalion  drill,  and  he  seems  rather 
lost.  I  hope  this  work  is  nearly  over. 

"  On  the  whole,  bad  as  the  season  is,  and  ominous  as  the 


190  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

anniversary  on  which  I  write  (six  months  ago,  Bull  Run), 
I  should  like  to  see  some  fighting  done. 

"  We  have  telegraphic  news  to-day  of  a  <  Great  battle 
and  victory  over  Zollicoffer  in  Kentucky.'  I  hope  it  may 
not  dwindle  as  Nelson's  victory  did.  I  take  great  comfort 
in  reading  the  extracts  from  the  Southern  newspapers. 
They  seem  to  write  without  hope.  Love  to  all." 

*'  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK, 
January  25,  1862. 

"  At  last  we  have  symptoms  of  sunshine  in  our  tedious  and 
sullen  sky  ;  and  at  last,  also,  we  have  symptoms  of  breaking 
light  on  the  horizon  of  the  future.  The  rout  of  Zollicoffer 
(Phoebus,  what  a  name !),  of  great  results  in  itself,  gets  its 
best  significance  from  the  confidence  it  inspires  in  what  may 
and  must  follow,  if '  alacrity '  shall  replace  torpor,  under  the 
quickening  guidance  of  our  new  War  Secretary.  I  hear 
the  best  accounts  of  Mr.  Stanton,  and  he  certainly  has  the 
confidence  of  the  country.  Indeed,  it  begins  to  seem  as  if 
we  were  on  our  way  out  of  the  woods  at  last.  I  have  had 

the  greatest  pleasure  in  a  visit  from  .     The  Colonel 

went  down  to  Washington  on  Monday,  and  brought  

back  with  him.  I  found  him  snug  in  one  corner  of  the 
Colonel's  fireplace  on  my  return  to  camp  in  the  afternoon. 
An  evening  full  of  talk,  and  gladdened  by  a  great  many 
home-memories,  followed.  Unluckily,  we  are  in  the  midst 
of  our  rain  and  mud,  so  we  could  not  show  our  prettiness ; 
but  I  think  he  enjoyed  seeing  a  little  of  the  plain  prose  of 
soldiering,  perhaps  as  much  as  its  gayer  phase.  You  have 
no  idea  of  the  depressing  influence  of  mud,  —  deep,  miry, 
insidious,  hopeless  mud.  The  Slough  of  Despond  is  no  alle 
gory.  The  soil  of  Maryland  is  very  unpropitious,  and  we 
cannot  find  dry  ground,  at  this  season,  for  our  camps.  An 
other  box  from  Mrs.  Ticknor  opportunely  brightens  this  dull 
time.  But  it  seems  that,  in  this  vicinity,  we  can  hardly 
expect  rapid  motion  just  now." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  191 

'"FROM  GENERAL  BANKS'S  COLUMN, 
Frederick,  Maryland,  Jan.  17. 

"  '  Nothing  of  the  least  interest  has  transpired  for  several 
days  past  along  the  line  of  the  Upper  Potomac.' 

"CANTONMENT  (?)  HICKS,  January  28,  1862. 

"  I  send  you  the  above,  clipped  from  yesterday's  paper.  It 
is  a  wonderfully  accurate  telegraphic  despatch.  It  is  a  curi 
osity  of  correctness,  a  prodigy  of  precision.  It  states,  too, 
all  that  I  can  hope  to  do  for  you  by  way  of  news.  Yet  I 
will  not  deny  that  the  air  is  full  of  rumors,  nor  that  our 
stay  at  Frederick  is,  very  probably,  to  count  itself  by  days 
rather  than  weeks* 

"  This  whole  region  of  conjecture  is  so  tracked  and 
trodden  by  the  impatient  restlessness  of  camp  life,  that  I 
consider  it  worth  little.  Yet  I  wish  you  to  feel  sure  that, 
though  i  nothing  of  the  least  interest  transpires,'  we  keep 
up  a  perturbed  prophesying,  which  answers  very  well  to 
spice  and  quicken  this  slow  life 

"  I  saw  yesterday  a  writing-case  that  excited  my  envy. 
It  rolls  up  very  compactly  ;  and,  being  composed  of  narrow 
and  thin  pieces  of  wood,  a  clamp  holds  them  in  place,  and 
makes  a,  tablet  of  the  roll. 

"  Will  you  get  me  a  small  one  ?  as  I  hope  to  be  re 
duced  to  a  carpet-bag  or  a  saddle-bag  very  often  this  sum 
mer 

"  I  am  going  to  do  what  I  can  to  reduce  living  to  its 
lowest  terms  ;  and  I  hope  to  be  as  movable  as  a  small, 
country  frame-house  ;  which,  I  believe,  is  the  most  restless 
fixture  of  modern  times." 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK, 
January  28,  1862. 

"  If  I  write  you  from  my  experience,  I  shall  have  little 
to  tell  of  a  soldier's  life.  It  is  one  of  the  disadvantages  of 
this  detached  duty  that  it  separates  one  from  the  life  of  the 
regiment.  This  I  could  find  more  disposition  to  regret,  if 


192  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D  WIGHT. 

I  saw  much  life  now  in  the  regiment ;  but,  in  truth,  we  are 
devoting  ourselves  to  keeping  warm  and  dry  under  every 
assault  of  heaven  and  earth,  rain  and  mud 

"  Yesterday  we  had  a  new  excitement  and  amusement. 
Colonel  Geary  got  up  a  party  to  Point  of  Rocks,  by  special 
train,  in  the  evening,  to  witness  his  private  theatricals.  We 
had  a  gay  excursion.  A  crowded  car  of  young  ladies  and 
old  generals  ;  off  we  went  at  about  six  o'clock.  When  we 
reached  Point  of  Rocks,  we  emerged  from  the  car ;  and, 
amid  the  clanging,  brazen  music  of  the  band,  piled  our 
selves  into  army-wagons,  whose  sternness  was  soothed  with 
a  little  straw.  On  we  went,  jolting  and  laughing,  to  the 
camp.  There  we  found  an  out-door  stage,  bright  with  hang 
ing  Chinese  lanterns  ;  and,  in  the  chilly  night,  well  wrapped 
up,  we  shiveringly  admired  the  '  Geary  Thespian  Corps.' 
Toodles  was  very  well  played ;  and,  indeed,  the  acting  was 
successful.  We  came  back  by  the  cars  at  midnight.  Our 
moving  train  at  the  unusual  hour,  so  near  the  enemy's 
lines  on  the  other  side  of  the  Potomac,  set  their  signal- 
lights  playing,  and,  undoubtedly,  they  failed  to  explain  the 
activity  in  Colonel  Geary's  camp  by  its  true  cause.  In 
truth,  it  is  an  experience,  —  an  open-air  theatrical  display 
in  January,  within  reach  of  Rebel  guns,  and  in  sight  of 
Rebel  signal-fires. 

"  General  Banks  went  off  to -Washington  yesterday.  Ru 
mor  gives  him  various  errands.  We  only  hope  that  he  goes 
to  hear  of  some  movement  that  he  may  share  or  inaugurate. 
I  do  not  even  guess  a  motive,  for  my  guesses  come  back  on 
me  dishonored  so  often  that  I  weary  of  conjecture. 

"  If  the  history  of  the  volunteer  force  for  this  great  war 
of  ours  shall  ever  be  written,  I  can  certainly  give  some  very 
amusing  episodes  of  appointments  of  officers,  and  their 
character  and  capacity.  Our  Board  continues  -its  weeding 
ruthlessly.  To-day,  under  the  terror  even  of  our  presence, 
were  two  resignations,  —  one  of  a  colonel. 

"  I  enclose  for  you  a  very  unfair  photograph  of  my  friend 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT.  193 

General  Hamilton.  It  does  not  do  him  justice  ;  yet  it  is, 
of  course,  a  likeness.  Place  it  in  my  album,  if  you  please. 
Colonel  Geary  promises  to  exchange  with  me  also,  so  that  I 
shall  have  the  whole  Board  in  my  book. 

"  The  association  has  been  such  a  pleasant  one  that  I 
shall  like  to  have  you  keep  a  souvenir  of  it.  .  .  .  . 

"  To  one  who  believes  in  omens,  as  I  do,  who  hails  the 
crescent  with  a  right-shouldered  glance,  the  battle  of  Mill 
Spring  is  something  more  than  a  victory.  It  is  an  augury, 
and  it  fills  me  with  hope. 

"  I  am  scribbling  the  close  of  this  letter  in  the  rooms  of 
the  Examining  Board,  interrupted  by  a  chat  with  General 
Hamilton. 

"  I  give  you  all  joy  of  Kentucky.  Will  not  father  allow 
his  forebodings  to  be  corrected  a  little  ?  Love  to  all." 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  February  2,  1862. 

"  A  Sunday-morning  inspection  of  your  letter,  received 
last  evening,  prompts  me  to  answer ;  though  it  must  come 
out  of  the  blank  which  is  now  my  book  of  chronicles.  I 
might  write  to  you,  it  is  true,  out  of  myself.  In  this  case, 
I  should  probably  exaggerate  the  thoughts  and  feelings 
which  spring  naturally  from  the  experiences  of  this  new, 
and,  in  some  sort,  intense  life.  Not  that  it  is  now  a  life  of 
even  mental,  much  less  moral  or  emotional,  activity  ;  but 
I  choose  the  word  for  its  derivative,  rather  than  its  acquired 
significance.  The  life  is  tense,  in  the  sense  of  keeping  one 
on  the  stretch.  All  the  chords  seem  to  be  kept  at  their 
highest  vibratory  capacity.  With  occasional  lapses  of  de- 
pressional  laxity,  this  is  true  ;  and  it  gives  the  meaning  to 
our  seemingly  dull  existence.  Action  would  be  a  great 
relief.  You  good  people,  who  sit  at  home  and  ask  for  a 
battle  with  such  impatience  for  result,  can  only  feebly  guess 
at  the  temper  of  the  army  itself.  I  do  not  agree  at  all  with 
some  who  speak  of  our  being  demoralized.  I  think  we  are 
becoming  restive,  eager,  sore ;  but,  I  trust,  all  the  more 

13 


192  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

I  saw  much  life 'now  in  the  regiment ;  but,  in  truth,  we  are 
devoting  ourselves  to  keeping  warm  and  dry  under  every 
assault  of  heaven  and  earth,  rain  and  mud 

"  Yesterday  we  had  a  new  excitement  and  amusement. 
Colonel  Geary  got  up  a  party  to  Point  of  Rocks,  by  special 
train,  in  the  evening,  to  witness  his  private  theatricals.  We 
had  a  gay  excursion.  A  crowded  car  of  young  ladies  and 
old  generals  ;  off  we  went  at  about  six  o'clock.  When  we 
reached  Point  of  Rocks,  we  emerged  from  the  car;  and, 
amid  the  clanging,  brazen  music  of  the  band,  piled  our 
selves  into  army-wagons,  whose  sternness  was  soothed  with 
a  little  straw.  On  we  went,  jolting  and  laughing,  to  the 
camp.  There  we  found  an  out-door  stage,  bright  with  hang 
ing  Chinese  lanterns  ;  and,  in  the  chilly  night,  well  wrapped 
up,  we  shiveringly  admired  the  '  Geary  Thespian  Corps.' 
Toodles  was  very  well  played ;  and,  indeed,  the  acting  was 
successful.  We  came  back  by  the  cars  at  midnight.  Our 
moving  train  at  the  unusual  hour,  so  near  the  enemy's 
lines  on  the  other  side  of  the  Potomac,  set  their  signal- 
lights  playing,  and,  undoubtedly,  they  failed  to  explain  the 
activity  in  Colonel  Geary's  camp  by  its  true  cause.  In 
truth,  it  is  an  experience,  —  an  open-air  theatrical  display 
in  January,  within  reach  of  Rebel  guns,  and  in  sight  of 
Rebel  signal-fires. 

"  General  Banks  went  off  to -Washington  yesterday.  Ru 
mor  gives  him  various  errands.  We  only  hope  that  he  goes 
to  hear  of  some  movement  that  he  may  share  or  inaugurate. 
I  do  not  even  guess  a  motive,  for  my  guesses  come  back  on 
me  dishonored  so  often  that  I  weary  of  conjecture. 

"  If  the  history  of  the  volunteer  force  for  this  great  war 
of  ours  shall  ever  be  written,  I  can  certainly  give  some  very 
amusing  episodes  of  appointments  of  officers,  and  their 
character  and  capacity.  Our  Board  continues  -its  weeding 
ruthlessly.  To-day,  under  the  terror  even  of  our  presence, 
were  two  resignations,  —  one  of  a  colonel. 

"  I  enclose  for  you  a  very  unfair  photograph  of  my  friend 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  193 

General  Hamilton.  It  does  not  do  him  justice  ;  yet  it  is, 
of  course,  a  likeness.  Place  it  in  my  album,  if  you  please. 
Colonel  Geary  promises  to  exchange  with  me  also,  so  that  I 
shall  have  the  whole  Board  in  my  book. 

"  The  association  has  been  such  a  pleasant  one  that  I 
shall  like  to  have  you  keep  a  souvenir  of  it.  .  .  .  . 

"  To  one  who  believes  in  omens,  as  I  do,  who  hails  the 
crescent  with  a  right-shouldered  glance,  the  battle  of  Mill 
Spring  is  something  more  than  a  victory.  It  is  an  augury, 
and  it  fills  me  with  hope. 

"  I  am  scribbling  the  close  of  this  letter  in  the  rooms  of 
the  Examining  Board,  interrupted  by  a  chat  with  General 
Hamilton. 

"  I  give  you  all  joy  of  Kentucky.  Will  not  father  allow 
his  forebodings  to  be  corrected  a  little  ?  Love  to  all." 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  February  2,  1862. 

"  A  Sunday-morning  inspection  of  your  letter,  received 
last  evening,  prompts  me  to  answer ;  though  it  must  come 
out  of  the  blank  which  is  now  my  book  of  chronicles.  I 
might  write  to  yon,  it  is  true,  out  of  myself.  In  this  case, 
I  should  probably  exaggerate  the  thoughts  and  feelings 
which  spring  naturally  from  the  experiences  of  this  new, 
and,  in  some  sort,  intense  life.  Not  that  it  is  now  a  life  of 
even  mental,  much  less  moral  or  emotional,  activity  ;  but 
I  choose  the  word  for  its  derivative,  rather  than  its  acquired 
significance.  The  life  is  tense,  in  the  sense  of  keeping  one 
on  the  stretch.  All  the  chords  seem  to  be  kept  at  their 
highest  vibratory  capacity.  With  occasional  lapses  of  de- 
pressional  laxity,  this  is  true  ;  and  it  gives  the  meaning  to 
our  seemingly  dull  existence.  Action  would  be  a  great 
relief.  You  good  people,  who  sit  at  home  and  ask  for  a 
battle  with  such  impatience  for  result,  can  only  feebly  guess 
at  the  temper  of  the  army  itself.  I  do  not  agree  at  all  with 
some  who  speak  of  our  being  demoralized.  I  think  we  are 
becoming  restive,  eager,  sore ;  but,  I  trust,  all  the  more 

13 


194  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

ready  and  willing  for  sacrifice,  effort,  suffering.  I  can  im 
agine  McClellan  himself  chafing  '  to  himself  within  himself ' 
while  his  hand  is  on  the  curb. 

"  But  bother  reflection  ;  and  of  all  spections  the  foolishest 
is  introspection.  I  do  not  care  to  analyze  my  present  state  ; 
but  I  do  pray  that  Heaven  has  not  three  months  more  of 
this  kind  of  life  in  store  for  me. 

"  '  Aut  cita  mors,  aut  victoria  Iceta? 

"  You  may  conjecture,  from  the  above,  it  has  been  partic 
ularly  rainy  and  muddy  this  week I  can  call  up  your 

coasting  scene,  not  without  envy.  There  is  youth  in  it,  and 
everything  young  I  like.  Our  snow  here  is  so  undecided 
and  capricious  that  it  gives  no  such  hope  of  enjoyment. 
And  Tug,*  too,  you  say  he  is  depressed.  I  can  well  under 
stand  the  serious  concern  with  which  he  must  regard  his 
country's  trial.  I  hope  he  will  not  be  doomed  to  close  his 
eyes,  after  a  last  look  at  the  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once 
glorious  Union.  You  must  guard  his  old  age  till  my  return. 
His  life  has  been  one  of  constant  struggle  and  inquiry  ;  he 
should  have  an  old  age  of  ease  and  contemplation.  I  know 
not  what  fate  is  in  store  for  him,  but  few  of  us  can  look  back 
on  a  life  of  so  many  purposes  and  so  much  attainment." 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  February  9,  1862,  near  Frederick. 

"  If  I  could  take  the  wings  of  this  brisk,  sunny  morning, 
I  would  certainly  fold  them  on  our  front-door  steps  in 
Brookline.  Nor  would  I  then  proceed  to  hide  my  head 
under  the  wings,  but,  having  flapped  them  cheerfully,  I 
would  thereupon  crow ! 

"  But,  as  the  wings  and  a  furlough  are  both  wanting,  I 
must  content  myself  with  a  web-footed,  amphibious  existence 
in  the  mud  of  Maryland. 

"  There  is  a  secession  song  which  enjoys  a  surreptitious 
parlor  popularity  here.  It  is  called, '  Maryland,  —  my  Mary 
land  ! '  and  rehearses,  among  other  things,  that '  the  despot's 

*  A  favorite  old  dog,  who  survived  his  master  but  one  year. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  195 

heel  is  on  thy  breast ! '  If  that  be  so,  all  I  have  got  to  say 
is,  that,  just  now,  the  heel  has  the  worst  of  it.  Yet  there 
is  a  just  satisfaction  in  this  morning's  inspection  of  men, 
tents,  and  kitchens.  —  to  see  how,  by  discipline,  method,  and 
fidelity,  there  is  a  successful  contest  maintained  with  all  the 
elements.  The  neatness  and  order  of  our  camp,  in  spite  of 
mud,  is  a  '  volunteer  miracle.' 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  the  regiment  is  now  in 
fine  health.  We  already  begin  to  count  the  days  till  spring. 
Of  course,  it  is  unsafe  to  predict  the  climate.  I  remember 
very  well,  however,  that  last  February  was  quite  dry,  and 
that  early  in  March  dust,  and  not  mud,  was  the  enemy  I 
found  in  Washington.  It  may  well  be,  therefore,  that  there 
is  a  good  time  coming. 

"  Indeed,  has  it  not,  in  one  sense,  already  come  ?  Can 
you  blind  yourself  to  the  omens  and  the  tendencies  ?  What 
shall  we  say  of  those  statesmen  of  a  budding  empire,  a  new 
State,  which  is  to  give  the  law  to  the  commerce  and  industry 
of  the  world  through  a  single  monopoly  ?  What  shall  we 
say  of  the  statesmen  (Cobb,  Toombs,  etc.)  who  counsel 
their  happy  and  chivalrous  people  to  a  general  bonfire  of 
house,  home,  and  product  ?  There  's  a  new  industry  for  a 
new  State.  King  Cotton  is  a  rare  potentate.  He  proposes 
to  be,  himself,  his  own  circulating  medium,  among  other 
eccentricities. 

"  Then,  too,  what  admirable  inferiority  of  fortification 
they  succeed  in  erecting !  Will  our  fleet  of  gunboats  have 
as  easy  victories  over  all  their  river  defences  ?  and,  if  so, 
how  far  are  we  from  Memphis  ?  and  where  is  Porter  going 
with  his  '  Mortar  Fleet.'  Among  the  ablest  of  our  naval 
commanders,  he  is  not  bent  on  a  fool's  errand.  When  Jeff 
Davis  sleeps  o'  nights,  does  he  dream  of  power  ? 

"  But  I  've  given  you  too  many  questions.  In  the  midst 
of  all  this  jubilant  interrogatory,  when  will  our  time  come  ? 
Just  as  soon  as  the  mud  dries,  without  a  doubt. 

"  Our  life  jogs  on  here  without  variety.     For  the  most 


196  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

part,  we  spend  our  time  in  reading  military  books  and  talk 
ing  military  talk. 

u  I  am  just  now  a  good  deal  disturbed  by  the  prospect 
of  disbanding  the  bands.  A  greater  mistake  could  not  be 
made.  The  man  with  so  little  music  in  his  soul  as  to  vote 
for  it  is  fit  for  —  a  Secessionist.  Marshal  Saxe,  in  introdu 
cing  the  cadenced  step  in  the  French  infantry,  says,  '  Music 
exerts  a  great  and  secret  power  over  us.  It  disposes  "  nos 
organes  aux  exercises  du  corps,  les  soulagent  dans  ces  ex 
ercises.  On  danse  toute  une  nuit  au  son  des  instruments 
mais  personne  ne  resterait  a  danser  pendant  un  quart 
d'heure,  seulement,  sans  musique."  I  have  seen  many  a 
practical  verification  of  this  in  the  gathering  freshness  and 
quickness  with  which  jaded  men  went  on  their  march  when 
the  music  called  and  cheered  them. 

"  Besides,  we  want  the  Star  Spangled  Banner,  and  its 
melody,  as  allies  against  the  Rebel  seductions." 

"CAMP  HICKS,  NEAR  FREDERICK,  February  12,  1862. 

"  Had  n't  the  little  hills  better  begin  to  rejoice  ?  Some 
thing  ought  to  clap  its  hands.  What  of  Burnside  ?  The  luck 
has  changed.  Louis  Napoleon  says  he  will  give  us  only 
'  wishes.'9  Good  ones  or  bad,  I  care  not,  so  they  are  wishes 
merely.  This  evening  an  order  comes  to  us  to  furnish, 
from  our  regiment,  part  of  a  force  to  man  some  gunboats  on 
the  Mississippi  River.  That  looks  like  life  in  the  West.  It 
is  an  outrage  on  our  regiment,  of  course,  but  perhaps  will 
help  the  cause.  We  send  thirty  or  forty  men,  —  no  officers, 
that  is  the  order.  But  to  go  back  to  Burnside  and  three 
thousand  prisoners.  There  's  progress  for  you  !  Yet,  in  the 
midst  of  it.all  (shall  I  confess  it?),  I  have  not  felt  so  blue  for 
a  month  as  I  do  to-day.  Exploit,  achievement,  victory,  — 
but  I  not  there.  I  may  feel  and  express  foolishness,  and  I 
think  I  do ;  but  I  had  rather  lose  my  life  to-morrow  in  a 
victory  than  to  save  it  for  fifty  years  without  one.  This 
inaction  and  stagnation,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  animating 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  197 

news  from  every  quarter,  is  utterly  maddening ;  and  I  must 
yell  out  my  grief  in  the  midst  of  this  general  joy. 

"  There,  I  have  relieved  myself  a  little,  and  perhaps  I  can 
now  write  reasonably,  and  with  a  moderately  Christian 
temper. 

"  There  is  some  authoritative  statement  as  to  the  relative 
merit,  I  believe,  of  him  who  ruleth  his  spirit  and  of  him 
who  taketh  a  city.  You  see  that  I  do  neither.  When  I 
speak  of  myself  as  not  there,  I  mean  the  Massachusetts  Sec 
ond,  in  whose  fortunes  and  hopes  I  merge  my  own. 

"  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  burn  this  letter,  but  I  '11  send  it,  I 
believe.  In  an  hour  or  two  I  shall  be  cheerful  as  ever,  and 
continue  the  service  of  standing  and  waiting  with  good  heart, 
I  hope." 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS,  February  16,  1862,  near  Frederick. 

"  I  sent  you  a  howl  last  Wednesday  ;  but,  now  that  I 
find  there  was  a  plentiful  lack  of  fighting  at  Roanoke  Island, 
and  an  equal  abundance  of  running  away,  I  care  little  about 
it.  Its  effect,  though,  is  grand.  Still  more  important  is 
the  news  from  the  Mississippi  and  Tennessee.  That  '  idol 
atrous  devotion  to  the  old  Union,'  which  the  Richmond 
Despatch  so  feelingly  regrets,  we  shall  hear  more  from 
soon. 

"  We  are  approaching  consummations  in  many  directions, 
I  opine.  At  times,  I  almost  fear  a  sudden  collapse,  and 
very  little  fighting  after  all.  Still,  I  think  this  can  hardly 
be.  It  is  not  to  be  desired,  I  think,  because  of  the  weak- 
kneed  settlement  that  would  come.  I  see  no  good  way 
out  of  our  present  difficulties,  except  through  an  over 
whelming  military  superiority  established  by  battles  and 
defeats.  Subjugation,  the  thing  that  they  fear,  is  the  thing 
I  desire. 

"  I  hope  that  father  begins  to  revive  his  faith  in  McClellan 
under  the  apparent  culmination  of  his  plans  and  combina 
tions.  But,  unluckily,  we  are  a  people  without  faith  in  men 


198  LIFE   AND   LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D  WIGHT. 

or  in  principles,  I  fear  ;  and  that  is  the  most  hopeless  sign 
in  our  condition. 

"  To-day,  we  have  the  wintriest  morning  of  the  year. 
Bright  sunshine,  however,  makes  it  cheerful ;  and  I  look 
upon  it  as  the  last  effort  of  winter.  This  is  not  a  climate 
in  which  winter  lingers  to  chill  the  lap  of  spring,  and  we 
are  all  ready  for  a  spring. 

"  This  evening  I  shall  go  into  church  to  the  pretty  Epis 
copal  Church  in  Frederick. 

"  Our  cook,  Tony,  came  in  this  morning,  in  great  glee, 
to  report  that  his  pigeon  had  laid  two  eggs  (and  Sunday 
she  lays  two).  He  has  several  pets,  —  puppies,  kittens, 
chickens,  and  doves. 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Union  and  McClellan  !  " 

"  CANTONMENT  HICKS, 

Raining  like  the  recent  Federal  victories,  and  dark  and 
cloudy  as  the  Ilebel  prospects, 

February  19,  1862. 

"  Hurrah  for  Donelson  !  Are  not  the  bricks  beginning 
to  tumble  beautifully  ? 

"  Glorious  Holt  has  tears  of  joy  filling  his  eyes.  John 
son  and  Maynard  have  homes  and  families  again.  The 
'  ungenerous '  advantage  has  been  taken  ! 

u  Price,  too,  as  we  hear  to-night,  has  at  last  fallen  into 
the  trap,  and  that  fox  has  lost  his  tail  at  last.  I  am  think 
ing  that  it  will  be  fashionable  soon,  in  rebeldom.  for  the 
foxes  to  go  without  their  tails.  In  the  midst  of  all  this, 
where  are  we  ?  There  is  not  even  echo  enough  to  answer 
the  question. 

"  Tell  D to  keep  the  money  raised  by  the  theatricals 

for  sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  and  intrust  it  only  to  such 
spending  as  shall  wisely  guide  it  in  such  channels 

"  Howard,  perchance,  has  seen  service  in  this  Price  pur 
suit  and  capture.  Heaven  send  him  honorable  employment. 
He  has  the  other  things  needful. 

"  I  have,  in  my  time,  heard  a  great  deal  said  of  vital  faith 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  199 

and  trust  in  God.  I  have  observed  very  little  of  its  practi 
cal  working  in  life.  I  must  say,  I  should  like  to  have  it 
myself.  The  last  month  has  been  the  hardest  one  since 
I  entered  the  service.  Action,  action,  action,  is  what  we 
want." 

"  CAMP  HICKS,  February  25. 

"  We  are  under  marching  orders,  and  shall  leave  very 
soon  for  Harper's  Ferry  and  '  so  on.1  There  is  an  exhilarat 
ing  cheerfulness  in  this  new  life.  I  am  so  blaze  of  sensa 
tions  that  my  hope  rises  feebly.  There  may,  however,  be 
purpose  and  exploit  in  our  future,  —  who  knows  ?  I  have 
only  time  to  give  you  greeting." 

"  CHARLESTOWN,  VIRGINIA,  February  28,  1862. 

"  A  story  to  tell,  and  no  time  to  tell  it  in.  That  is  my 
record.  After  tedious  waiting  in  Frederick,  with  constant 
threatenings  of  movement,  at  last,  in  the  pouring  rain  of 
Wednesday  night,  came  the  order  to  be  at  the  depot  in 
Frederick  at  daylight,  to  take  the  cars  for  Harper's  Ferry. 
So,  in  the  dark,  damp  fog  of  Thursday  morning,  the  line 
was  formed,  and  on  we  splashed  and  paddled  to  the  turn 
pike.  Just  at  sunrise  we  entered  Frederick.  The  band 
played,  '  The  girl  I  left  behind  me,'  and  tearful  maidens 
looked  a  sad  farewell.  When  we  got  to  the  depot,  we  found 
no  cars.  At  twelve,  M.,  we  got  off. 

"  Only  six  hours'  delay,  caused  by  the  crowding  of  troops 
on  the  road  coming  from  Poolesville.  The  day  broke  clear 
and  cold.  Our  Frederick  friends  saw  the  last  of  us,  and  we 
were  off.  At  four  o'clock  we  reached  Sandy  Hook,  and 
were  soon  crossing  the  bridge  to  Harper's  Ferry.  As  we 
entered  the  town  the  music  swelled  out,  the  men  closed  up, 
and  on  we  went,  by  the  Shenandoah  road,  to  the  upper  part 
of  the  town.  We  crowded  into  a  few  buildings.  An  old 
negro  woman  gave  the  Colonel  and  myself  shelter,  and  we 
spent  the  night.  This  old  woman  gave  us  her  political 
sentiments  briefly,  thus :  '  De  Union  is  broderly  love.  Dat  's 


200  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

what  de  Union  is.  Dese  yere  secesshnists  ain't  got  no  sich 
principle.  In  de  Union  dey  do  good  to  one  another ;  but 
dese  yere  secesshnists  dey  don't  do  no  good  to  yon.  Dey 
won't  help  yer  out  when  yer  's  in  trouble.  Lord  bress  yer  ! 
dey  can't  help  derselves  out,  let  alone  other  folks.  I 's  for 
de  Union  and  love  ;  dat  's  what  I 's  for.' 

"  At  three  in  the  morning  we  were  roused  up  by  an  order 
for  the  regiment  to  move,  '  soon  after  sunrise,'  in  a  recon- 
noissance  to  Charlestown.  In  the  sharp,  windy  morning  we 
took  up  the  march.  At  Bolivar  Heights  the  force  assembled. 
It  consisted  of  four  squadrons  of  cavalry,  two  sections  of 
artillery,  our  regiment,  and  the  Third  Wisconsin. 

"  Colonel  Gordon,  as  the  ranking  colonel,  was  in  com 
mand.  Colonel  Andrews  had  been  detailed  as  Provost 
Marshal  of  Harper's  Ferry.  This  left  me  in  immediate 
command  of  the  regiment.  We  moved  on,  over  the  road 
by  which  we  had  eight  months  before  advanced  (!)  to  Har 
per's  Ferry. 

"  When  we  got  near  Charlestown,  Colonel  Gordon  hurried 
on  with  his  cavalry,  and  all  four  squadrons  whirled  down 
the  main  street  rattlingly.  Half  a  dozen  cavalry  scampered 
out  at  the  other  end  of  the  town,  on  the  road  to  Winchester, 
and  the  place  was  in  our  grasp. 

u  The  artillery  was  posted,  commanding  the  two  roads 
toward  Winchester,  and  our  regiment  was  drawn  up  in 
support ;  the  Third  Wisconsin  in  rear.  We  had  been 
there  half  an  hour.  The  cavalry  had  divided  itself,  and 
gone  out  over  the  various  roads.  We  then  heard  that 
McClellan  was  coming.  So  I  drew  up  the  regiment,  and 
he  rode  the  length  of  it  with  his  staff.  I  then  joined  them, 
for  a  moment,  to  answer  General  Banks's  inquiries,  and 
those  of  General  McClellan.  Colonel  Gordon  soon  came 
back.  After  a  consultation,  it  was  determined  to  remain  in 
the  town  and  hold  it.  Our  reconnoissance  changed  to  an 
advance.  I  put  the  bulk  of  the  regiment  in  the  court 
house, —  John  Brown's  court-house.  I  was  immediately 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF  WILDER   D WIGHT.  201 

appointed  Acting  Provost  Marshal,  and  had  my  hands  full 
all  day,  attending  to  the  quartering  of  troops,  feeding  thenv 
(for  we  were  without  rations),  preventing  marauding,  post 
ing  pickets,  <fcc.,  &c.  It  was  an  awful  blustering  day.  At 
evening  General  Hamilton  came  in  and  took  command.  I 
was  in  the  saddle  the  first  part  of  the  night,  on  duty,  but 
had  comfortable  quarters  for  sleeping. 

"  At  two  in  the  morning,  however,  there  was  an  alarm. 
I  had  to  go  and  get  the  regiment  under  arms,  also  to  organ 
ize  a  party  for  the  purpose  of  obstructing  the  railway. 

"  And  now,  this  bright  morning  (March  1 ;  I  wrote  only 
a  few  lines  last  night),  we  are  busy  with  a  thousand  and 
one  affairs.  How  soon  we  shall  advance  I  do  not  know. 
We  are  in  large  force,  and  shall  take  no  steps  backwards. 

"  McClellan  has  gone  back  to  Washington,  we  hear.  We 
know  little  of  our  future.  The  force  at  Harper's  Ferry  is 
increasing.  A  permanent  bridge  is  going  up. 

"  It  takes  a  little  time  to  organize  supplies,  but,  as  the 
men  are  fond  of  singing,  i  we  are  marching  on.'  The  regi 
ment  is  in  fine  condition. 

"  To-day  the  rest  of  our  brigade,  from  which  we  have 
been  detached  since  the  reconnoissance,  has  marched  up. 

"  We  have  been  mustering  the  regiment ;  and  used,  for 
that  purpose,  the  court-room.  It  was  an  odd  capsize  of 
events  that  brought  about  the  muster  of  a  Yankee  regiment 
in  Charlestown  court-house. 

"  The  newspapers,  I  see,  are  silent  about  our  movements, 
or  nearly  so.  I  suppose  this  is  under  the  order  of  the  Presi 
dent  checking  the  telegraph  and  mail.  This  order  is  a 
sound  and  healthy  one. 

"  I  have  had  several  amusing  experiences  in  this  hot 
secession  town  in  my  provost-marshalship.  One  good  lady 
told  me  this  morning,  '  Well !  I  hope  you  '11  be  beaten  in 
your  next  battle  ;  but  you  can  have  the  rooms,  and  I  '11  have 
a  fire  built  directly,  as  they  are  rather  damp  for  you.'  I 
thought  this  charming  feminine  consistency. 


202  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGIIT. 

"  I  think  we  under-estimate  the  strength  of  the  secession 
^sentiment  and  overestimate  the  Union  feeling.  Still,  I  may 
speak  from  the  fresh  impressions  of  my  recent  experience. 
At  any  rate,  there  is  a  long  battle  to  come  after  the  bayonet 
has  done  its  work.  Troops  have  been  coming  in  all  day." 

"  CHARLESTOWN,  March  4,  1862. 

"  The  extent  to  which  our  regiment  has  followed  the  path 
of  John  Brown  is  somewhat  curious.  The  last  coincidence 
of  occupation  occurred  on  Sunday,  when  the  men  were 
assembled  in  the  court -room  of  the  court-house,  and 
listened  to  our  chaplain,  who  preached  from  the  judges' 
bench  !  This  morning  Colonel  Gordon  and  I  went  in  to 
see  the  cell  of  Brown  in  the  jail,  and  also  went  out  in 
the  open  field,  where,  upon  a  knoll,  can  be  seen  the  holes 
in  which  the  gallows  was  set  up.  *  This  is  a  fine  country,' 
said  Brown,  as  he  came  out  into  the  field  which  commands 
a  view  of  this  grand  country.  '  I  have  not  had  an  oppor 
tunity  of  observing  it  before.'  .... 

"  This  country  has  been  the  paradise  of  debtors,  and  cred 
itors  have  seen  their  mortgages  and  notes  melt  away  into 
Confederate  bonds,  payable  i  six  months  after  the  ratification 
of  a  treaty  of  peace  between  the  Confederate  States  and 
the  United  States.'  Money  has  been  the  one  thing  in  excess, 
and  delusion  or  terror  have  made  this  currency  pass  readily 
in  payment  of  debts.  An  element  which  will  have  some 
weight  when  you  talk  of  conciliation  is  this  same  currency 
question. 

"  Before  our  arrival,  every  one  had  money.  The  night 
before  we  came  to  town  the  bank  migrated  suddenly  to 
Stanton,  and  to-day  the  people  are  refusing  their  own 
money. 

"  '  Pretty  conciliation  you  bring  us,'  says  one  man  ; 
6  why,  you  won't  even  take  our  money.'  This  consequence 
of  the  i  invasion  '  cannot  fail  to  supply  an  argument  to  the 
Rebels,  which  they  will  adroitly  use." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  203 

"  CIIARLESTOWN,  VIRGINIA,  March  8,  1862,  Saturday. 

"  We  are  quite  at  home  in  Charlestown  now.  We  wont 
into  camp  on  Wednesday.  On  Thursday  I  was  detailed  as 
brigade  officer  of  the  day. 

"  That  kept  me  in  the  saddle  all  day  and  until  night. 
And  now  I  have  a  story  of  a  midnight  march  for  you.  It 
is  midnight  of  Thursday  night.  It  may  have  begun  to  be 
Friday  morning.  I  am  sleeping  in  my  tent ;  my  nose  alone 
apprising  me  that  it  is  bitter  cold.  The  rattle  of  an  orderly 
is  heard  galloping  into  the  camp.  Soon,  again,  my  reviv 
ing  wakefulness  hears  the  voice  of  Major  Perkins,  General 
Banks' s  Chief  of  Staff,  talking  to  the  Colonel  in  the  next 
tent. 

"  At  last  I  am  called.  '  Get  the  regiment  under  arms  at 
once,  Major,'  is  the  order,  c  and  move  down  on  the  Berry- 
ville  Pike.'  Colonel  Maulsby,  who  is  at  Kabletown,  near 
the  Shenandoah,  with  part  of  his  regiment,  is  reported  to 
have  been  attacked  by  Rebel  cavalry,  and  '  cut  to  pieces.' 
A  force  of  cavalry,  artillery,  and  two  regiments  of  infantry, 
under  Colonel  Gordon,  is  to  move  at  once,  cautiously,  to  his 
relief.  It  is  dark,  and  so  cold.  A  discussion  of  the  best 
route  ensues.  The  regiment  is  turned  out.  I  mount  my 
horse  and  ride  down  to  take  command.  In  the  darkness, 
it  is  difficult  to  see  whether  the  regiment  is  facing  one  way 
or  another.  We  move  down  upon  the  road.  The  Sixteenth 
Indiana  follows  us. 

"  After  proceeding  a  mile  upon  the  pike,  we  turn  off  upon 
the  <  Dirt  Road,'  so  called,  toward  Kabletown.  Over  rocks, 
through  ruts  and  mire,  half  frozen,  we  make  a  slight  head 
way.  The  artillery  cannot  proceed.  It  is  too  dark  for  even 
safe  progress  by  infantry.  '  Halt !  Build  fires,  and  bivouac 
till  daylight.'  In  fifteen  minutes,  from  our  position  at  the 
head  of  the  line  to  the  rear  of  it  is  a  succession  of  bright 
fires,  with  groups  of  men  gathered  round  them.  Down  the 
hill,  and  along  the  winding  road  is  one  blaze  of  camp-fires. 
The  sight  is  a  fine  one.  At  last  the  morning  star  rises,  like 


204  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

a  flame,  and  the  day  follows  her.  We  move  again,  with 
flankers  and  advance  guard.  As  we  had  been  sitting  about 
the  fire,  waiting  for  day,  a  teamster  of  Colonel  Maulsby's 
regiment,  who  was  our  guide,  had  told  his  story,  how  the 
cavalry  charged  upon  them,  cut  them  down,  and  '  now,'  said 
he,  '  Colonel  Maulsby  and  all  his  officers  are  either  dead  or 
on  their  way  to  Richmond.' 

"  As  we  drew  near  to  Kabletown  we  saw  pickets  and 
outposts.  A  company  of  our  regiment,  deployed  as  skir 
mishers,  went  down  on  the  field  toward  them.  They  with 
drew  ;  but  suddenly  it  appears  that  they  are  part  of  Colonel 
Maulsby's  Home  Guard  ! 

"  We  advance  again,  when,  at  a  turn  in  the  road,  the 
quiet  camp  of  Colonel  Maulsby  appears  in  tranquil  uncon 
sciousness.  The  teamster  opens  his  eyes  in  blank  amaze 
ment.  We  halt.  I  go  on  and  find  Colonel  Maulsby, 
delighted  and  surprised  to  see  me. 

"  Then  come  the  explanations.  A  patrol  of  our  cavalry 
lost  its  way,  last  night,  came  rapidly  in  on  the  camp  by  the 
wrong  road.  Maulsby's  men  fired,  and  so  did  the  cavalry. 
The  teamsters  and  a  few  of  the  outposts  were  panic-stricken, 
and  their  terror  drew  a  picture  which  had  little  resemblance 
to  the  reality. 

"  In  the  unlucky  blunder,  a  horse  and  man  were  shot. 
The  fugitive  teamsters  and  outposts  had  led  us  a  pretty 
chase.  The  joke  and  collapse  were  ridiculous.  '  Come  in 
to  breakfast,'  said  Colonel  Maulsby.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  We 
are  the  heroes  of  Kabletown !  On  our  return,  I  told 
General  Banks  that  Kabletown  should  be  inscribed  on  our 
banners ! 

"  We  had  a  night  march,  and  at  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning  we  got  back  to  our  camp,  after  fourteen  miles  of 
marching  over  the  worst  road  in  the  world.  Well !  what 
of  it  ?  There  is  no  harm  done,  and  perhaps  this  wretched 
cavalry  has  learnt  a  lesson. 

"  I   am  writing  in  the  Provost  Marshal's  office   in   the 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  205 

Charlestown  jail.  Colonel  Andrews  is  still  Provost  Marshal. 
John  Brown's  cell,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  entry,  is  full 
of  contrabands,  fugitives  within  our  lines,  most  of  them  to 
he  sent  to  work  at  Harper's  Ferry.  Again  I  give  you  an 
odd  retribution  from  the  whirligig  of  events." 

"CAMP  NEAR  CHARLESTOWN,  VIRGINIA,  March  9,  1862. 

"  After  finishing  my  letter  to  you  yesterday,  as  I  came 
out  of  the  Provost  Marshal's  office,  I  saw  a  sight  that  I 
would  gladly  photograph  for  you.  A  large  wagon  full  of 
negro  men,  women,  and  children,  overrunning  like  the  old 
woman's  shoe.  It  had  come  in  from  the  farm,  near  town, 
of  some  disloyal  Rebel.  There  stood  the  load  of  helpless 
and  deserted  contrabands  ;  an  embarrassment  and  a  ques 
tion  typifying  the  status  of  the  slave  everywhere,  as  the  army 
marches  on. 

"  4  You  see  that  wagon,'  said  my  friend  and  quondam 
enemy,  the  secession  postmaster.  '  Well,  that  is  an  answer 
to  all  your  talk  of  protection  and  good  government.'  '  No,' 
said  I ;  l  under  the  government,  and  with  the  peace  you 
then  enjoyed,  there  were  no  such  wagons.  You  had  better 
hasten  back  under  the  government,  or  all  your  negroes  will 
be  in  wagons  or  on  foot,  whither  they  choose.  War  is  a 
rough  master,  but  it  has  no  rules  or  processes  for  the  en 
forcement  of  the  slave  code.' 

"  The  question  meets  you  at  every  turn.  At  the  tavern 
where  we  stopped  for  a  few  days  after  coming  to  town  were 
two  slaves,  —  an  Aunt  Chloe,  whose  bread  and  pastry  and 
cake  realized  Mrs.  Stowe's  fiction  ;  her  son  George,  eighteen 
years  old,  who  waited  on  table,  and  whose  free  father  is  a 
carpenter  in  Charlestown.  Day  before  yesterday,  on  going 
to  town,  I  found  '  aunty  '  in  great  affliction.  Her  only  boy, 
George,  had  c  run  away.'  When  General  Hamilton  went 
on  to  Smithfield,  George  went  too. 

"  He  wanted  to  be  free,  instead  of  following  longer  the 
apron-string  and  status  of  his  mother.  Either  his  free  father 


206  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D  WIGHT. 

or  our  servants  or  the  change  of  air  had  '  poisoned  '  his 
mind,  as  our  host,  his  '  owner,'  phrased  it.  I  might  add 
case  after  case. 

"  The  leaven  is  working  ;  there  is  no  stopping  it." 

"CAMP  NEAR  BERRYVILLE,  March  12,  1862. 
Ten  miles  from  Winchester. 

"  A  rapid,  muddy  march  brought  us  to  Berryville  on 
Monday  afternoon.  As  brigade  officer  of  the  day,  I  was 
busy  about  the  outposts  of  our  new  position.  The  only 
evidence  of  the  enemy  was  a  few  cavalry. 

"  The  regiment  lay  down  to  bivouac,  with  the  aid  of  straw 
and  fence-rails.  Yesterday  I  was  also  busy  as  field  officer, 
and  at  one  o'clock  this  morning  was  glad  to  leave  the  saddle 
for  my  tent  and  bed,  which  had  come  up  at  evening.  The 
weather  is  lovely.  Our  cavalry  reconnoissance  went  within 
three  miles  of  Winchester,  driving  the  enemy's  cavalry,  and 
taking  a  few  prisoners. 

"  The  best  joke  of  our  entry  to  Berryville  I  send  you  in 
the  shape  of  two  newspapers. 

"  The  editor  of  the  Berryville  Conservator  had  the  outside 
of  his  paper  struck  off,  when  our  coming  led  him  to  strike 
himself  off.  Some  printers  of  the  Minnesota  regiment  took 
up  his  paper  and  types  and  completed  the  news  of  the  day. 
The  result  I  send  you.  It  was  issued  the  morning  after 
our  arrival.  The  outside  contains  the  report  of  Johnson's 
operations  in  this  valley  and  at  Manassas  last  summer. 
The  inside  records  another  campaign. 

"  The  date  of  my  next  letter,  I  think,  will  be  in  Win 
chester. 

"  I  hope  Howard  has  had  a  share  in  the  successes  in 
Arkansas." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  WINCHESTER,  March  13,  1862. 

"  At  last !  My  prophecy  of  yesterday  found  its  fulfilment 
rapidly  enough.  Half  an  hour  after  my  letter  went  on  its 
way,  Colonel  Andrews  brought  the  news  that  Hamilton's 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  207 

and  Williams's  brigades  were  in  Winchester,  as  quietly  and 
easily  as  if  no  hostile  force  had  ever  held  it.  Jackson  left 
the  night  before,  having  held  Hamilton  and  us  in  check  all 
the  previous  day  by  slight  demonstrations  of  cavalry.  It  is 
as  I  have  always  supposed,  though  this  general  exodus  from 
Manassas  and  the  whole  line  is  more  sudden  than  I  believed 
possible.  It  gives  us  a  stern  chase,  perhaps  a  long  chase. 
After  lunch  the  Colonel  and  I  determined  to  gallop  down 
from  Berryville  to  Winchester  to  call  on  Hamilton  and  see 
the  place,  —  a  pleasant  ride  of  ten  miles.  We  approached 
the  town  from  the  east.  The  only  symptom  of  fortification 
was  a  long  rifle-pit,  with  a  few  platforms  for  guns,  and  one 
broken  gun  '  truck,'  or  ship  carriage.  We  found  General 
Hamilton  in  command,  and  in  tranquil  possession.  Jackson 
cleverly  slipped  away,  carrying  with  him  everything,  —  guns, 
stores,  men.  He  had  been  moving  for  a  fortnight,  and  has 
gone  to  the  railway  at  Strasburg.  I  think  we  have  lost 
time  uselessly  in  our  over-caution.  Our  own  twenty-four 
hours'  delay  at  Berryville  is  inexplicable  to  me.  The  effort, 
I  think,  should  have  been  made  by  a  movement  to  Millwood, 
and  so  across  to  the  Strasburg  pike,  to  cut  off  Jackson.  A 
bold  game  would,  perhaps,  have  bagged  him.  Still,  while 
the  position  at  Manassas  was  held,  a  bold  game  was  too 
full  of  hazard.  After  the  broad  hint  furnished  us  by  the 
evacuation  of  Leesburg,  however,  I  think  we  might  have 
pushed  on  our  intercepting  column  fearlessly.  At  any  rate, 
the  movement  is  without  brilliancy  or  effectiveness  or  fruit, 
and  only  postpones  and  unsettles  the  time  of  our  success. 
We  got  into  the  saddle  again  at  half  past  five  to  return. 

"  Just  at  dusk  we  came  near  Berryville.  Whom  should 
we  meet  but  General  Abercrombie.  '  The  whole  brigade  is 
moving,'  said  he.  i  I  have  a  telegraphic  despatch  from  Gen 
eral  Banks,  that  Hamilton  is  engaged  with  the  enemy  at 
Winchester.  Shields  has  been  taken  prisoner,  and  the  loss, 
on  our  part,  is  very  heavy.  We  are  ordered  to  march  at 
once  to  his  support.'  '  But  it 's  all  a  mistake,'  said  we. 


208  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

i  We  just  left  General  Hamilton  safe  and  happy  at  Win 
chester,  and  no  enemy  within  twenty  miles.'  '  Never  mind/ 
said  the  General ;  '  I  have  my  orders.'  It  was  no  use  ;  he 
would  not  let  us  turn  the  regiment  back,  as  we  desired. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  yield.  We  stopped  and  got 
some  supper,  and  then  followed  the  regiment,  overtaking  it 
at  about  eight  o'clock,  as  it  was  crossing  a  stream.  At  about 
ten  o'clock,  wet  and  cold,  we  turned  into  a  field  near  Win 
chester  to  bivouac  for  the  night.  A  cold  time  we  had  of 
it.  To-day  we  have  got  into  camp  near  the  town.  I  rode 
out  this  afternoon  to  see  their  vaunted  fort  on  the  road 
toward  Bunker  Hill ;  a  poor  affair  enough.  Everything 
tells  me  that  if  Patterson  had  had  courage  instead  of  cau 
tion,  an  army  instead  of  a  mob,  we  should  have  walked  into 
Winchester  last  July  as  we  have  to-day.  But  we  needed 
the  lessons  of  that  campaign  to  prepare  for  this. 

"  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  the  arrival  of  the  boxes  of 
clothing,  from  Mrs.  Ticknor,  on  Saturday  last  at  Charles- 
town.  They  came,  like  their  predecessors,  most  opportunely. 
It  was  the  morning  after  our  night  march  over  rough  and 
muddy  roads.  Our  camp  was  scourged  by  a  blustering  and 
piercing  March  wind.  The  boxes  opened  their  warmth 
upon  men  who  longed  for  it.  Give  our  cordial  thanks  to 
all  the  ladies  whose  kindness  has  done  so  much  for  us. 

"  Great  news  from  Arkansas  !     Howard  is  in  luck. 

"  My  last  night's  bivouac,  after  so  many  previous  sleepless 
nights,  has  made  me  rather  sleepy.  Our  regiment  turned 
into  a  thick  pine  wood.  Colonel  Hackleman's  Indiana  regi 
ment  was  just  in  our  rear.  They  brought  along  with  them 
the  hens  and  chickens  of  the  neighboring  farms,  and  the 
feathers  flew  briskly  about  their  beds.  Old  Hackleman 
calls  them  his  '  boys,'  and  they,  in  turn,  call  him  <  pap ' ;  and 
he  has  a  happy,  noisy  family  about  him.  As  they  lay  by 
our  side  last  night,  I  was  led  to  the  remark,  that  Hackle- 1 
man's  babes  were  in  the  wood,  and  Hobbin  Henroosts  had 
covered  them  with  softer  covering  than  leaves.  Our  regi- 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS    OP   WILDER   D WIGHT.  209 

ment  is  in  perfect  condition,  and  the  men  have  really  become 
practised  and  expert  soldiers.  Our  train  came  up  this  morn 
ing,  and  at  about  one  o'clock  we  went  into  camp.  Before 
sunset  ovens  were  built,  and  we  had  a  perfectly  organized 
camp.  We  may  not  stay  here  a  day,  but  everything  takes 
shape  at  once.  The  men  march  easily  and  rapidly,  and  1 
am  more  than  ever  pleased  and  contented  with  the  Second 
Regiment. 

"  Have  we  not  a  Monitor  afloat  ?  Was  not  her  providen 
tial  arrival  at  Norfolk  an  effective  admonition  to  the  Rebels  ? 
Check  to  their  king.  Private  enterprise  has  done  what  our 
Navy  Department  could  not.  What  a  glorious  trial  trip ! 

"  Just  beyond  the  field  in  which  we  are  encamped  are  the 
remains  of  the  camp  of  the  Second  Virginia.  An  omen,  per 
haps  ;  but  this  peaceable  succession  to  vacant  camps  has  in 
it  little  of  the  element  that  feeds  martial  ardor  or  rewards 
the  ecstasy  of  strife  !  But  how  silently  and  surely  we  are 
dealing  with  slavery.  The  post  at  which  I  placed  my  grand 
guard  yesterday  was  near  a  fine  old  farm-house.  Its  Rebel 

owner  left  with  haste,  as threw  his  shells  with  brilliant 

courage  at  four  men  and  a  threshing-machine  which  his 
distempered  fancy  had  imagined  and  exaggerated  into  some 
new  engine  of  destruction.  All  the  negro  servants  were  left 
in  charge  of  the  other  property.  This  leaving  one  kind  of 
property  in  possession  of  another  kind  of  property  hath  in  it 
a  certain  logical  and  natural  inconsistency,  which  doth  not 
fail  to  show  itself  in  the  practical  result.  '  Massa  's  gone  to 
Winchester.  He  in  a  big  hurry.  Yer  's  welcome  to  the 
hams  and  the  other  fixins.  Massa  very  hospitable  man/ 
So  the  negro  makes  free  with  his  fellow-property  with  every 
right  of  succession  and  enjoyment  that  belongs  to  a  next  of 
Jcin.  Why  will  he  not  also  learn  to  make  free  with  himself? 

"  If  he  fails  to  do  so,  it  will  not  be  for  the  want  of  a  good 
deal  of  rough  but  sage  counsel  from  the  i  boys  '  of  the  Six 
teenth  Indiana  Regiment,  who  were  posted  there.  The 
Hoosiers  have  very  vague  notions  of  property  and  Rebel 

14 


210  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

ownership  at  the  best.  They  have  not  the  capacity  to  rise 
to  the  height  of  contemplating  human  ownership.  A  long 
row  of  beehives  were  humming  their  peaceful  labors  in  the 
front-yard.  I  hear  that  they  soon  fell  into  disorder,  and 
that  the  Hoosiers  had  a  ration  of  honey  !  Sic  vos  non  vobis 
mellificatis  apes !  My  Latin  may  be  lame,  but  the  sense 
is  clear. 

"  I  send  you  a  Richmond  Enquirer,  from  the  Winchester 
mail,  seized  yesterday  ;  I  send  you  also  a  paper  published  by 
the  Twelfth  Indiana  on  their  advent  to  town.  It  is  dull 
enough,  but  an  odd  institution,  —  a  sort  of  turning  of  the 
Rebel  batteries  against  themselves 

"  The  origin  of  General  Banks' s  error  about  a  battle  at 
Winchester,  which  gave  us  our  night  stampede,  is  supposed 
to  have  been  in  the  signal  corps.  Some  one  blundered  a 
signal  or  forged  one,  we  have  not  yet  learned  which  ;  an 
investigation  is  going  on." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  211 


CHAPTEE    XIII. 

LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  WINCHESTER. — WINCHESTER.  —  BAT 
TLE  OF  WINCHESTER.  —  CAMP  BIVOUAC,  NEAR  STRASBURG.  — 
CAMP  NEAR  STRASBURG.  —  CAMP  NEAR  EDINBURG. 

"CAMP  NEAR  WINCHESTER,  March  15,  1862. 

a^  ^ie  P^itudes  an(^  jingles  that  ever  amused  and 
deluded  a  chivalrous  people,  the  assertion, '  You  can't 
subjugate  a  State,'  is  the  wildest.  These  people  were  first 
subjugated  to  secession,  and  now  they  are  rapidly  being 
subjugated  back  to  loyalty.  Subjection  is  what  vast  num 
bers  of  them  sigh  for.  If  only  they  were  sure  that  the 
Union  authority  would  last.  Therein  lies  McClellan's  wis 
dom.  No  step  backward,  is  his  motto.  With  such  tactics, 
and  with  a  bold  and  confident  advance,  I  care  not  whether 
we  fight  battles  or  follow  retreats,  though  the  former  is  far 
better,  we  restore  the  Union. 

"  I  fear  the  people  will  regard  the  retreat  from  Manassas 
as  a  disappointment  to  our  arms,  and  almost  a  Rebel  suc 
cess.  I  fear  that  they  will  think  McClellan's  preparation 
and  generalship  wasted.  A  little  patience,  however,  may 
show  that  they  are  wrong.  We  have  gained  an  immense 
moral  victory  over  the  Rebellion,  and  a  short  time  hence 
we  shall  begin  to  see  palpable  material  results.  Only  let  us 
not,  by  a  sudden  and  rash  revulsion,  begin  at  once  to  under 
value  our  foe.  Nothing  but  the  presence  everywhere,  in 
the  seceded  States,  of  Union  bayonets  will  accomplish  the 
Union's  restoration.  That  is  a  work  of  some  time  and 
struggle,  yet  it  must  be  done.  The  most  dangerous  heresy 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  suggestion  that  the  States,  having 
gone  out,  are  to  be  governed  as  Territories.  This  involves 
the  admission  of  the  theory  we  went  to  war  against.  Mar 
tial  law  may  be  necessary  within  the  States  for  a  time ;  but 


212  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

the  State,  as  well  as  the  national  government,  is  to  be  re 
stored,  or  our  contest  is  fruitless.  Changes,  rapid  and 
unexpected,  are  the  order  of  the  day.  Heintzelman's 
promotion  to  a  corps  d'armee  leaves  open  his  division. 
Yesterday,  when  I  went  to  town,  I  found  that  General 
Hamilton  was  promoted  to  the  command  of  that  division. 
He  went  off  yesterday  afternoon,  regret  following  him  from 
every  one.  He  is  a  great  loss  to  us.  His  departure  leaves 
a  brigade  vacant ;  accordingly  our  regiment  is  to-day  trans 
ferred  to  Hamilton's  old  brigade,  and  Colonel  Gordon,  as 
senior  Colonel,  assigned  to  its  command,  as  Acting  Brigadier. 
This  is  a  pleasing  change,  and  it  gives  the  Colonel  room  to 
show  himself.  It  probably,  for  the  present,  may  find  me  in 
command  of  the  regiment,  as  Colonel  Andrews  is  still  on 
detached  duty ;  but  I  shall  make  every  exertion  to  have 
him  returned  to  the  regiment,  in  justice  to  him.  He  has 
fairly  earned  the  right  to  the  command,  and  I  should  not 
feel  content  to  have  him  or  the  regiment  deprived  of  it, 
though  my  own  personal  ambition  might  be  gratified  by  so 
desirable  a  command.  I  hope  I  can  sink  myself  in  seeking 
always  the  welfare  of  the  regiment,  and  the  interest  of  so 
faithful  an  officer  and  friend  as  Colonel  Andrews.  I  think 
more  and  more,  though  I  am  unwilling  to  write  about  it, 
that  we  missed  the  cleverest  chance  at  cutting  off  and  bag 
ging  Jackson  and  his  force  that  ever  fell  in  one's  way. 
Caution  is  the  sin  of  our  generals,  I  am  afraid  ;  but  military 
criticism  is  not  graceful,  and  I  will  waive  it  for  the  present. 
Yet  if  you  knew  how  we  ache  for  a  chance  at  fighting,  how 
we  feel  that  our  little  army  corps  out  in  this  valley  has  no 
hope  of  it,  you  would  not  wonder  that  a  leaden  depression 
rests  heavily  upon  us,  as  we  think  of  our  hesitating  and 
peaceful  advent  to  Winchester.  And  now  why  we  do  not 
push  on  upon  Jackson  at  Strasburg  passes  my  limited  con 
jectural  capacity  to  guess.  I  presume  the  reason  to  be  that 
his  evanescent  tactics  would  be  sure  to  result  in  his  evapora 
tion  before  we  got  there. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  213 

"  This  morning  a  few  companies  of  cavalry,  four  pieces 
of  artillery,  and  five  companies  of  infantry,  Massachusetts 
Thirteenth,  went  out  on  an  armed  reconnoissance,  and 
chased  Colonel  Ashby's  cavalry  several  miles.  The  cavalry 
were  too  quick  for  them,  and  our  own  cavalry  has  no  more 
chance  of  catching  them  than  the  wagon  train  has.  They 
are  admirably  mounted  and  thoroughly  trained.  Where 
our  men  have  to  dismount  and  take  down  the  bars,  they  fly 
over  fences  and  across  country  like  birds. 

"  General  Banks  has  just  gone  off  to  Washington.  Conjec 
ture  is  busy,  again,  with  '  why '  ?  My  guess  is,  that  we  have 
outlived  our  usefulness  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  and  that 
we  shall  make  a  cut  through  the  gap  into  the  path  of  the 
Grand  Army.  At  any  rate,  nothing  more  can  happen  this  side 
the  mountains,  and  I  certainly  hope  we  shall  not  be  absorbed 
into  any  force  that  is  to  be  handled  by  General  Fremont. 

"  Our  little  town  of  Berryville  is  also  called,  as  you  may 
see  on  some  of  the  maps,  Battletown,  probably  with  prescient 

sarcasm  on  's  anticipated  cannonade  of  that  peaceful 

agricultural  implement,  the  threshing-machine.  Who  shall 
say  that  we  are  not  engaged  in  the  noble  task  of  fulfilling 
prophecy  and  making  history  ! 

"It  is  now  Sunday  morning.  After  two  days'  cloud  and 
rain,  we  have  bright  sunshine.  Colonel  Andrews  comes 
back  to  the  regiment,  and  Colonel  Gordon  assumes  his 
slippery  honors  as  provisional  brigadier. 

"  I  should  like  to  go  to  church  with  you  this  morning, 
even  in  an  east  wind.  Instead  of  it,  however,  I  must  con 
tent  myself  with  thinking  of  you  in  my  wind-swept  camp 
near  Winchester.  I  see  that  Governor  Letcher  appoints 
Winchester  as  a  place  of  rendezvous  for  his  new  levy  of 
militia.  I  only  wish  they  would  obey  his  order." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  WINCHESTER,  VIRGINIA,  March  20,  1862. 

"  I  have  no  sympathy  with  the  strains  of  peace  which 
come  to  me  in  your  last  letters.  Indeed,  I  am  so  much  dis- 


214  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

pirited  by  our  inaction,  that  I  have  hardly  energy  for  letter 
writing  or  elasticity  for  effort  of  any  kind.  McClellan's 
order,  which  should  be  a  clarion,  is  simply  an  irritant. 
Here  we  are,  and  it  is  a  week  since  we  pitched  our  tents 
near  Winchester.  Daily  duty  comes  with  every  day.  We 
have  had  our  seed-time  and  our  harvest  season,  but  no  fruit. 
....  I  presume  I  love  life  and  home  and  friends  as  much 
as  any  one,  but  I  would  sooner  give  them  all  up  to-day  than 
have  our  regiment  go  home  empty 

"  As  for  Howard,  if  he  closed  his  eyes  honorably  on  Pea 
Ridge  he  has  only  my  envy. 

"  I  hope  we  may  get  orders  of  some  kind  soon.  Even 
long  marches  and  picket  duty,  of  which  we  have  done  too 
much  already,  are  better  than  this  hopeless  idleness  in  the 
rear  of  the  vaunted  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

"  If  you  have  any  prayers  to  give,  give  them  all  to  the 
supplication  that  the  Second  Regiment  of  Massachusetts 
Volunteers  may  find  a  field  whereon  to  write  a  record  of 
itself.  Do  not  spend  your  days  in  weakly  fearing  or  re 
gretting  this  or  that  life,  —  lives  whose  whole  sweetness 
and  value  depend  upon  their  opportunities,  not  on  their 
length." 

"CAMP  NEAR  WINCHESTER,  VIRGINIA,  March  21,  1862. 

"  If  you  had  looked  upon  our  camp  at  sunrise  reveille*, 
this  morning,  you  would  have  seen  a  dreary,  wintry  picture. 
The  mules  gathered  closely  about  their  wagons  in  the 
scourging  snow-storm  with  sullen  endurance,  their  tails 
drawn  tightly  down,  and  standing  in  a  vicious  attitude  of 
expectant  kicking.  The  horses  crossly  laying  back  their 
ears  with  half-closed  eyes  and  hanging  necks.  The  soldiers 
standing  up  to  their  roll-call  in  the  attitude  of  the  traveller 
in  the  spelling-book,  against  whom  the  wind  is  striving  to 
gain  the  victory  of  the  fable.  The  ground  whiter  than  the 
morning's  early  light,  but  only  serving  to  darken  the  tents 
into  a  cheerless  and  gloomy  hue.  The  air  itself  thick  with 
snow  and  sleet.  The  camp-fires  just  beginning  to  smoke, 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGIIT.  215 

and  men  hopelessly  endeavoring  to  allure  a  blaze  from  black 
coals  and  dripping  wood.  The  camp-kettles  and  mess-pans 
crusted  with  ice,  suggestive  of  anything  else  than  a  warm 
breakfast.  Would  you  not  expect  every  mind  of  the  thou 
sand  men,  remembering  also  their  two  thousand  wet  feet, 
to  be  in  harmony  with  the  scene  ?  Yet,  I  know  not  how  it 
is,  from  some  inherent  perverseness  perhaps,  I  was  in  ex 
cellent  spirits. 

"  The  order  has  now  come  to  march.  Our  destination  is 
Centreville,  en  route,  perchance,  for  the  enemy.  At  any  rate, 
I  have  grown  philosophical  again. 

"  I  buried  hope  yesterday,  had  a  glorious  wake,  and  re 
solved  to  sink  every  other  wish  in  the  absorbing  one  of  the 
progress  of  the  war  without  or  with  the  Massachusetts  Sec 
ond,  as  it  may  happen. 

"  We  cross  the  Shenandoah  at  Snicker's  Gap.  The  march 
is  one  of  about  sixty  miles,  and  will  occupy  at  least  four 
days. 

"  General  Banks,  who  has  just  returned  from  Washington, 
seems  in  good  spirits.  He  gives,  however,  a  depressing 
account  of  the  Congressional  and  political  folly  which  con 
tinues  to  assail  McClellan.  If  McClellan  were  all  they 
charge  him  to  be,  their  lips  should  be  sealed. 

"  Every  good  man  will  now  seek  to  strengthen  the  hand 
and  animate  the  purpose  of  the  General  under  whose  guid 
ance  the  decisive  campaign  begins 

"  The  weather  is  breaking  away,  and  promises  no  very 
severe  penance  for  our  march,  though  it  is  not  fun  that  is 
before  us  next  week.  No  news  yet  of  Howard,  I  suppose. 
It  is  clear  that  he  has  been  in  one  of  the  hottest  battles  of 
the  war.  You  will  not  hear  from  me  again  till  Centreville 
probably." 

"WINCHESTER,  VIRGINIA  (again),  March  24,  Monday. 

"  I  've  only  a  minute  in  which  to  send  you  greeting. 
Again  are  we  hurried  by  a  forced  march,  over  rough  roads, 
to  see  the  dregs  and  debris  of  a  battle,  — heaps  of  wounded, 


216  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

dying,  and  dead.  Well,  again  fortune  is  against  us.  "We 
left  here  on  Saturday  morning  for  Centreville.  The  bridge 
across  the  Shenandoah  broke,  and  luckily  delayed  us.  Back 
we  were  ordered  at  midnight  of  last  night.  An  angry,  bit 
ter,  well-fought  fight  followed,  yesterday  afternoon,  upon 
an  artillery  duel  which  had  occupied  nearly  all  day.  So 
little  did  any  one  know  it  was  coming,  that  General  Banks 
went  up  to  Harper's  Ferry  at  three,  P.  M.,  and  the  sharp 
fight  commenced  at  four !  The  battle-ground  was  that 
on  which  my  pickets  had  been  posted  until  we  left  town. 
It  seems  to  have  been  an  exhibition  of  dogged  courage  by 
unruled  and  undisciplined  soldiers. 

"  So  we  go The  lees  and  flatness  of  the  sparkling 

goblet  of  victory  are  all  that  we  taste.  Jackson  and  Ashby 
are  clever  men.  We  are  slow-w-w  !  " 

"WINCHESTER,  VIRGINIA,  March  25,  1862. 

"  A  blue  March  morning,  and  I  have  just  returned  from 
the  battle-field.  A  sight  to  forget.  I  question  much  if 
description  of  it  is  well.  You  may  fancy  the  scattered  dead 
through  woods  and  over  hillsides. 

"  The  oddest  coincidence  of  blunders  brought  about  a 
battle. 

"  Banks's  division  had  left  Winchester  on  Saturday  noon. 
Shields  drew  back  from  Strasburg,  and  had  gone  on  the 
back  of  the  town  (Winchester).  No  forces  or  pickets  were 
on  the  Strasburg  road  on  that  side  of  the  town. 

"  On  Saturday  evening  there  was  some  skirmishing  by 
Ashby's  cavalry,  in  which  Shields  was  wounded.  It  seems 
that  Jackson  had  been  informed  that  every  one  had  left  the 
town.  His  skirmish  on  Saturday  failed  to  develop  any  large 
force. 

"  On  Sunday,  therefore,  the  fight  commenced  by  our  and 
their  artillery.  It  continued  through  the  day  till  half  past 
three  without  any  development  of  infantry  on  their  side. 
At  three  o'clock  General  Banks,  supposing  it  to  be  only 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  217 

Ashby's  cavalry,  with  a  few  pieces  of  artillery,  continuing 
his  system  of  annoyance,  went  to  Harper's  Ferry.  But,  at 
about  four  o'clock,  Jackson,  with  his  infantry,  attempted  to 
turn  our  right  by  sending  round  over  a  ridge  through  the 
woods.  No  one  was  in  command  of  our  forces.  Colonel 
Kimball,  the  ranking  colonel  of  Shields's  forces,  was,  so  to 
speak,  in  charge  of  the  battle.  Shields  was  abed  in  town. 
The  staff  were  galloping  about,  and  the  soldiers  fought  like 
heroes.  General  Banks  had  gone  to  Harper's  Ferry.  Jack 
son  had  put  his  artillery  on  the  commanding  ridge  on  his 
left.  He  had  two  regiments  of  infantry  behind  a  stone-wall 
in  rear  of  the  batteries.  Here  was  the  sharp  fighting.  We 
sent  round  our  force  to  turn  their  position  and  take  their 
artillery.  It  was  done.  Then  they  tried  to  retake  it.  Their 
force  came  over  a  hill,  and  fired  over  our  men.  Our  men 
shot  up  at  them  and  took  them  in  the  head  and  breast.  The 
woods  are  torn  and  shivered  by  musketry  and  cannon. 
Thirty  men  in  Confederate  homespun,  shot  in  the  head,  lie 
in  this  wood.  Their  upturned  faces  seemed  to  me  looking 
reproach  at  Jeff  Davis.  The  fight  lasted  till  dark,  when 
Jackson  withdrew,  leaving  us  the  field  and  two  pieces  of 
artillery  and  five  caissons ;  leaving  also  his  dead  and 
wounded  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  prisoners  in  our 
hands. 

"Both  parties  had  blundered,  —  they,  by  acting  on  our 
retreat ;  we,  by  acting  on  his  retreat.  The  upshot  is  a 
glorious  victory  for  us.  I  have  just  come  back  from  a  sad 
visit  to  the  hospitals  ;  seeing  wounded,  dying,  and  dead, 
Rebels  and  Loyalists  lying  side  by  side,  and  receiving  equal 
care.  The  loss  on  our  side  is  one  hundred  or  more  killed, 
and  two  to  three  hundred  wounded.  Theirs  is  nearly  three 
hundred  killed  and  probably  five  hundred  wounded.  Every 
thing  shows  how  easy  it  is  to  kill  a  great  many  men  by 
shooting  very  often !  Jackson's  men,  as  some  of  their 
wounded  state,  came  down  expecting  to  find  Winchester 
empty.  They  consider  our  actual  movement  a  feint.  Some 


218  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

of  their  troops  marched  two  days,  and  came  into  action  late 
in  the  afternoon.     I  give  you  my  impressions. 

"  We  go  to  Strasburg  to-morrow.  We  shall  meet  no 
opposition.  We  left  a  door  open,  and  in  came  Jackson. 
We  must  not  leave  another  door  open.  That 's  the  moral 
of  this  story.  The  sheer  fighting  of  our  men  saved  us. 
Good  by.  Love  to  all  at  home." 

"CAMP  BIVOUAC,  NEAR  STRASBUKG,  March  27,  1862. 

"  I  must  write  you  a  line  from  our  hillside-wooded  bivouac 
this  bright  morning. 

"  On  Tuesday  night  we  made  a  forced  march  toward 
Strasburg  from  Winchester,  to  be  within  supporting  distance 
of  General  Banks.  We  marched  till  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  then  the  regiment  laid  down  by  the  roadside, 
and  built  fence-rail  fires  and  rested.  Yesterday  morning 
we  came  on  to  Strasburg,  where  we  now  await  the  future. 
Jackson  is  supposed  to  be  at  Mount  Jackson,  about  fifteen 
miles  from  here,  with  part  of  his  force.  The  force  was  very 
much  demoralized  by  the  defeat  and  loss.  Their  killed, 
wounded,  and  prisoners  cannot  be  less  than  one  thousand ; 
three  hundred  will  cover  our  loss,  killed  and  wounded.  At 
our  bivouac,  night  be/ore  last,  a  few  of  the  officers,  including 
the  Colonel  and  myself,  took  possession  of  a  comfortable 
house,  and  slept  in  the  '  best  room.'  The  next  morning  at 
breakfast,  when  the  master  was  out  of  the  room,  the  mulatto 
that  served  us  said :  '  Jackson  took  breakfast  here  day  before 
yesterday.  He  told  massa  that  he  could  not  make  much, 
but  he  should  try  you  again.'  But  he  won't,  think  I.  As 
we  marched  through  Middletown  yesterday,  whose  houses 
are  full  of  secession  wounded,  dropped  on  their  march  by 
the  retreating  army,  our  band  poured  out  its  national  music, 
and  there  was  a  somewhat  unfeeling  sauciness  in  the  swing 
and  tramp  of  the  regiment  over  the  way  so  lately  passed  by 
the  panic-stricken  fugitives.  At  one  house  near  which  we 
rested  we  found  a  poor  Rebel  soldier  whom  a  shell  had 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  219 

overtaken  in  his  retreat.  One  arm  gone,  one  leg  nearly  so, 
and  the  other  leg  mangled.  Poor  fellow  !  his  life  will  be 
short.  By  his  bedside  was  a  Union  soldier  of  the  Seventh 
Ohio,  —  the  regiment  that  suffered  most,  on  our  side,  in 
the  fight.  That  soldier  was  nursing  and  tending  the  pool 
wounded  man  as  affectionately  as  a  sister.  He  had  been 
with  him  a  day,  and  said  he  was  afraid  of  being  court- 
martialled  if  he  stayed ;  but,  said  he,  '  I  can't  leave  him 
alone.'  Our  surgeon,  who  has  been  behaving  like  a  trump, 
gave  him  a  certificate,  and  advised  him  to  stay.  We  left 
him  dressing  the  hopeless  wounds. 

"  At  one  of  the  hospitals  in  Winchester,  a  Rebel  soldier, 
wounded  and  suffering,  said :  (  How  kind  you  are  to  us ! 
They  told  us  that  you  would  kill  us,  and  kill  all  the 
wounded.'  Such  are  some  of  the  lies  with  which  they  keep 
their  men  up  to  the  fighting  point.  The  women  of  Win 
chester  began  by  bringing  delicacies  for  their  wounded,  as 
they  said.  After  a  day,  however,  when  they  saw  our  equal 
kindness,  they  began  themselves  to  get  a  little  humanity, 
and  to  work  for  all. 

"  There  is  a  base  and  brutalizing  influence  at  work  here 
in  Rebeldom,  beyond  all  question. 

"  The  scenes  through  which  I  have  passed  for  the  last 
three  days  remain  with  great  vividness.  Take  the  Win 
chester  court-house  as  an  example.  You  enter  the  door, 
and  the  vestibule  is  full  of  dead.  You  go  in  farther,  and 
the  court-room  is  a  hospital,  in  which  every  variety  of 
wound  and  suffering  meets  your  eye. 

"It  is  little  enough  that  human  aid  can  do  in  such  a 
place,  but  it  is  wonderful  to  see  the  comfort  that  is  given  by 
human  sympathy.  I  noticed  one  boy  shot  through  the  jaw 
and  the  back.  He  had  been  looking  intently  at  the  man 
next  him,  when  he  began  some  inarticulate  address  to  him. 
Through  the  wounded  and  disturbed  jaw  he  at  last  made 
himself  understood  as  saying, '  Do  you  feel  better  ? '  '  Yes,' 
said  the  man  next  him.  '  Glad  of  it,'  he  worked  out,  with 


220  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

difficulty,  and  lay  back,  having  imperfectly  expressed  the 
sympathy  which  most  men  would  hardly  think  he  had  to 
spare.  Young  Lieutenant  Crowninshield  was  walking 
through  one  hospital.  '  Hallo,  Crownie,  how  are  you  ? ' 
said  a  wounded  Rebel  soldier.  On  looking  at  him,  he 
recognized  a  classmate,  named  Washington,  who  left  Cam 
bridge  a  year  ago.  He  was  a  private  in  Jackson's  army. 
His  mother  and  sister  were  living  near  Charlestown.  The 
poor  fellow  was  wounded  through  the  lungs  probably  mor 
tally.  What  a  war  this  is  ! 

"  An  odd  incident  occurred  to  one  of  our  regiment.  Pri 
vate  Alexander,  of  Company  E,  was  taken  prisoner  last 
summer  at  Maryland  Heights,  and  brought  to  Winchester 
and  thence  to  Richmond.  He  was  released  with  Colonel 
Lee,  and  sent  back  here  to  rejoin  his  regiment.  He  arrived 
in  Winchester  just  after  we  had  left  for  Centreville,  but 
just  in  season  for  the  battle.  He  went  out  on  to  the  field, 
took  a  gun  from  some  fallen  soldier,  and  went  in  with  all 
the  bitterness  of  a  six  months'  captivity.  At  the  close  of 
the  engagement  he  returned  to  Winchester,  bringing  with 
him  two  Rebel  guns  and  a  Rebel  prisoner  as  his  booty  and 
revenge.  He  thinks  he  is  even  with  them  now.  Captain 
Cary's  company  was  on  duty  in  Winchester,  at  the  time 
of  the  battle,  as  part  of  the  provost  guard.  Three  of 
the  men  got  leave  of  absence  in  the  afternoon  and  went 
out  to  the  field,  picked  up  guns,  and  sailed  in.  The  last 
that  is  known  of  one  of  them  is,  that  he  was  seen  in  the 
advanced  line  of  skirmishers  fighting  like  a  hero.  The 
others,  after  the  battle,  returned.  So  you  see  our  regiment 
had  only  four  men  in  the  engagement.  I  believe  we  remain 
here  quietly  to-day.  We  are  on  the  line  of  the  Manassas 
Gap  railway,  but  the  bridges  have  been  burnt.  I  think  that 
we  shall  not  be  attacked  again,  nor  be  able  to  overtake 
Jackson,  whose  movement  was  against  a  divided  force,  and 
unsuccessful  at  that.  He  will  not,  therefore,  assail  us  when 
we  are  reunited.  It  is  a  splendid,  mild  morning.  We  are 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  221 

camped  in  a  pine  and  cedar  grove  facing  the  south,  and 
resting  after  a  march  of  sixty-five  miles  in  four  days,  —  awful 
hard  work  with  very  little  glory.  Those  fellows  who  are 
put  on  cars  and  then  shipped  to  an  exploit,  with  no  service 
in  the  field,  are  lucky  men.  Ours  is  the  labor  and  heat  of 
the  day  with  no  penny  as  yet.  The  eleventh-hour  men  are 
getting  their  pennies  first !  Will  there  be  any  left  for  us  ? 
Who  knows  ?  Love  to  all  at  home.  I  am  writing  on  your 
little  portable  writing-case,  which  is  a  convenience.  Your 
letter  of  the  20th  was  received  last  night." 

"CAMP  FOUR  MILES  BEYOND  STRASBDEG,  March  28,  1862. 

"  I  had  just  finished  my  letter  yesterday,  and  started  to 
mail  it,  when  I  was  turned  back  by  a  hurried  order  to 
4  march  at  once.'  Our  long  roll  was  beating  as  I  got  back 
near  camp,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  line  was  formed  and 
the  brigade  in  motion  through  Strasburg.  It  was  reported 
that  our  outposts  were  threatened  by  cavalry,  infantry,  and 
artillery  of  the  enemy.  As  we  passed  out  of  the  town  we 
could  hear  the  occasional  sullen  tone  of  a  cannon.  My  in 
credulity  was  proof,  however,  against  any  faith  in  an  attack 
in  force  ;  so  I  was  not  surprised  when  the  brigade  was 
halted  a  few  miles  from  town,  and  ordered  to  go  into  camp, 
and  send  back  for  its  train.  It  seems  that  the  enterprising 
and  clever  Ashby,  with  his  two  light  pieces  of  artillery,  was 
amusing  himself  and  exciting  us  by  a  slight  demonstration. 
Ready  for  a  rapid  and  elusive  retreat  at  a  moment's  notice, 
he  would  like  to  continue  his  game  which  he  has  safely  and 
pleasantly  played  so  long.  He  is  light,  active,  skilful,  and 
we  are  tormented  by  him  like  a  bull  with  a  gad-fly.  We 
chose  a  fine  oak-wood  for  our  camp,  and  at  sunset  were 
quietly  in  tents  again.  This  morning  the  sun  rose  warm 
and  glorious.  The  singing  birds  anticipated  our  reveille*, 
and  we  have  the  sunniest,  happiest  camp  to-day  possible. 

"  I  have  had  an  opportunity  to  hear  directly  from  Jack 
son's  camp  yesterday.  He  is  a  few  miles  beyond  Woodstock. 


222  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

He  has  no  tents,  and  his  wagons  carry  only  subsistence,  and 
are  ready  to  move  at  a  moment's  notice.  His  force  is  four 
or  five  thousand  men.  He  says,  '  My  men  have  no  uniform, 
they  wear  multiform.'  He  keeps  Ashby  in  his  rear  with 
his  cavalry  and  two  pieces  of  artillery.  His  game  is  a  win 
ning  one  even  when  he  loses.  With  his  small  force  he 
detains  twenty  thousand  men  in  this  valley.  It  seems  prob 
able  that  his  attack  on  Winchester  was  in  pursuance  of  a 
positive  order  from  Johnson  to  make  the  attack  at  all  haz 
ards,  to  arrest  and  detain  our  force  from  its  intended  move 
ment  to  Centreville.  In  this  aspect  it  was  a  success.  In 
my  judgment  our  weakness  was  in  turning  back.  The  force 
left  behind  was  large  enough  to  take  care  of  this  valley. 
But,  indeed,  it  seems  as  if  we  had  no  plan  and  no  courage 
or  decision.  Vacillation  is  our  name.  We  cannot  take 
Jackson.  If  we  mean  to  hold  the  valley,  we  should  establish 
our  force  in  position  to  do  so,  take  the  rest  to  Centreville, 
and  thus  perform  our  part  in  the  campaign.  The  life  that  we 
have  led  for  the  week  past  is  a  waste  of  men  and  of  energy. 
It  quells  the  spirit  of  our  troops,  and  destroys  the  prestige 
of  our  leaders.  My  admiration  and  sympathy  go  with  the 
gallant  Ashby,  and  the  indefatigable  and  resolute  Jackson. 
With  an  equal  force,  the  latter  would  have  beaten  us  at 
Winchester.  Banks,  in  his  general  order,  speaks  of  a  '  sub 
tle  '  foe,  a  most  unlucky  word  for  a  shrewd  observer  of  our 
movements.  As  soon  as  we  give  him  a  chance  by  dividing 
our  forces  or  exposing  a  detachment,  Jackson  may  seize 
the  occasion  for  an  attack.  While  we  remain  strong  in 
numbers  or  position,  he  will  do  neither,  you  may  be  sure. 
I  hope  in  McClellan's  generalship,  and  am  very  glad  father 
gains  faith  in  it.  You  will  soon,  as  I  know,  hear  of  move 
ments  which  show  boldness,  plan,  and  decisiveness.  The 
campaign  is  not  to  be  a  timid  waiting  on  the  movements 
of  the  enemy.  I  hope  events  may  soon  take  us  to  Centre 
ville,  where  we  can  feel  the  direct  grasp  of  McClellan's  hand. 
But  I  try  to  be  patient,  and  to  feel  that  '  they  also  serve 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  223 

who  only  stand  and  wait.'     At  present  we  are  safe  and  com 
fortable  enough.     God  bless  you  all  at  home." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  STRASBURG,  VIRGINIA,  March  31,  1862. 

"  I  was  glad  to  hear,  from  your  letter  of  the  23d,  that 
you  have  been  doing  something,  and  leading  others  to  do, 
for  the  wounded  and  suffering  from  Pea  Ridge.  You  will 
never  appreciate,  except  feebly  and  by  conjecture,  the  relief 
and  soothing  of  which  you  may  be  the  happy  cause.  If,  on 
Monday  evening  last,  you  had  gone  with  me  into  the  court 
house  at  Winchester,  and  seen  the  wounded  and  dying  lying 
upon  the  bare  floor,  '  heads  and  points,'  as  the  surgeon 
expressed  it,  the  victims  at  once  of  hunger  and  cold  and 
wounds,  you  would  know  what  could  be  done  with  the  heart 
to  do  and  the  things  to  do  with. 

"  Of  those  people  who  make  a  luxury  of  good  works,  and 
are,  so  to  speak,  epicures  in  benevolence,  I  know  not  how 
they  could  get  so  much  for  their  money  as  by  coming  upon 
one  of  these  recent  battle-fields. 

"  I  rejoice  in  Howard's  safety  more  than  I  can  bring  my 
self  to  do  in  my  own.  While  you  are  thinking  of  the  bodily 
security  of  your  sons,  there  is  one  of  them  who  is  jaded  and 
depressed  by  the  inglorious  military  drudgery  to  which  '  the 
best  regiment  in  the  service '  is  hopelessly  condemned. 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  twenty-four  hours'  picket  duty 
in  a  cold  rain-storm.  The  enemy's  line  of  pickets  is  about 
a  mile  from  our  own.  Ashby  brought  up  his  cannon,  and 
threw  a  few  shells  at  our  outposts.  They  whistled  through 
the  air  and  fell  near  us,  but  were  only  bravado  and  insolence. 
When  we  go  on  he  will  run  faster  than  we  can  follow. 
Meantime,  the  large  movements  and  the  decisive  actions  of 
the  Potomac  campaign  are  probably  taking  place,  and  we 
are  stupidly  trailing  after  an  evanescent  and  puny,  but  reso 
lute,  foe.  Bah  !  One  of  our  companies  is  in  Centreville,  I 
suppose ;  one  at  Snicker's  Ferry ;  the  rest  here,  drying  them 
selves  in  the  sun  after  twenty-four  hours'  hard,  wet,  useless 


224      LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  WILDER  D WIGHT. 

work,  unrecognized  and  unknown.  Whenever  the  division 
wants  a  commissary,  or  an  acting  assistant-adjutant,  or  what 
not,  he  is  detailed  from  us.  We  have  not  a  single  full  brig 
adier  in  the  whole  corps  d'armee.  Five  brigades  all  com 
manded  by  colonels,  —  unorganized  and  undisciplined,  except 
a  few  regiments. 

"  Do  you  wonder  that  I  get  down  in  the  mouth  ?  It  will 
soon  be  a  year  that  we  have  been  in  service,  with  nothing  to 
show  for  it  but  the  effects  of  the  hardest  possible  work. 

"  You  see  I  am  in  no  mood  for  letter-writing.  I  write 
because  there  is  a  mail  going.  I  shall  not  write  again  till 
I  feel  better.  You  need  not  feel  concerned  at  not  hearing 
from  me.  I  almost  feel  as  if  I  would  not  take  up'  a  pen 
again  till  I  could  speak  of  something  else  than  the  inglorious 
details  of  our  present  life.  Love  to  all  at  home." 

"CAMP  NEAR  EDINBTTRG,  VIRGINIA,  April  2,  1862. 

"  I  promised  not  to  write  you  till  our  monotony  ceased. 
It  has  done  so  ;  yet  the  story  is  a  short  one.  Our  regiment 
started  yesterday  morning  (April  1)  to  advance.  A  few 
shots,  as  we  started,  from  some  of  our  Parrott  guns,  scattered 
the  enemy's  vedettes,  and  five  of  our  companies,  deployed 
as  skirmishers,  led  the  way.  The  other  three  companies 
were  the  reserve,  four  hundred  yards  in  rear,  and  were 
under  my  command.  The  occasional  interchange  of  shots 
now  and  then,  a  rapid  rattle  of  rifle-shots  from  our  skir 
mishers  as  they  came  upon  a  retreating  line  of  the  enemy's 
cavalry,  kept  us  in  excitement  till  we  got  near  Woodstock. 
When  we  came  over  the  hill  to  that  town,  spang!  went  a  gun 
from  the  opposite  hill,  and  whirr-r-r  came  a  shot  over  my 
reserve  ;  the  men  ducked  their  heads  a  little,  and  I  drew 
them  under  the  shelter  of  a  bank.  Here  there  was  a  rapid 
interchange  of  cannon-shot ;  and  when  we  had  shelled  out 
their  battery,  our  skirmishers  again  advanced,  driving  their 
cavalry  before  them.  Just  beyond  the  town  we  came  upon 
their  burning  camps,  which  they  had  set  on  fire  and  deserted. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  225 

Again  we  advanced,  and  came  to  the  '  Narrow  Pass '  (so 
called).  Here  the  bridge  over  the  creek  was  burning.  Our 
skirmishers  put  it  out. 

"  The  pass  is  a  strong  position  for  the  Rebels,  and  we 
were  not  surprised  to  hear  another  *  spang,'  and  the  rushing 
of  more  shells.  Our  batteries  got  into  position,  and  there 
was  a  brisk  interchange  of  shots  over  our  heads,  the  re 
serve  being  in  the  hollow,  and  getting  an  occasional  bursting 
shell  near  it  from  each  side.  Here  one  of  our  skirmishers 
came  back  shot  in  the  breast.  As  luck  would  have  it,  how 
ever,  his  brass  plate  turned  the  ball,  so  that  he  was  not  dan 
gerously  hurt.  Again  we  went  on  till  we  came  to  this  place. 
Here  both  bridges,  the  turnpike,  and  railroad  were  burning. 
We  halted  a  little  while  before  entering  the  town,  and  when 
we  pushed  on  the  inevitable  '  spang  '  assailed  us.  Our  skir 
mishers  drove  the  enemy  across  the  river,  and  back  into  the 
woods.  Our  batteries  silenced  theirs.  One  poor  fellow,  in 
a  regiment  in  rear  of  our  reserve,  had  his  head  taken  off  by 
a  shell.  These  were  the  only  casualties  on  our  side.  Here 
we  paused  and  went  into  bivouac  ;  and,  after  fourteen  miles' 
skirmishing  in  heavy-trim  knapsacks,  all  our  tired  regiment 
went  to  sleep.  This  morning  there  has  been  a  little  more 
shelling.  We  halt  for  supplies.  We  are  in  bivouac,  our 
tents  having  been  left  behind. 

"  I  hope  Jackson  will  make  a  stand,  but  fear  he  will  not. 
Yesterday  was  quite  a  brisk,  exciting  day.  The  regiment 
did  splendidly,  as  all  agree.  I  am  very  well,  and  recovering 
my  spirits.  Love  to  all." 

"  CAMP  NEAR  EDINBURG,  VIRGINIA,  April  4,  1862. 

"  We  make  life  musical  these  hot  sunny  days  with  the 
screeching  whir  of  shells  or  the  sharp  buzz  and  sping  of 
rifle-balls.  But  the  enemy  keep  at  a  respectful  distance,  for 
the  most  part,  and  our  own  shameful  mismanagement  about 
supplies,  or  some  large  wisdom  affecting  other  forces,  keeps 
us  quiet.  Our  tents  came  up  yesterday,  and  we  are  now  in 

15 


226  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

camp  again.  This  morning  Colonel  Andrews  and  I  have 
been  out '  prospecting '  round,  as  they  say  in  this  country. 

"  The  Rebel  pickets  are  in  plain  sight,  just  beyond  the 
river,  but  there  is  no  evidence  of  any  force  there,  and  when 
we  conclude  to  go  on,  on  we  shall  go  without  difficulty. 
Our  advance  to  this  point  was  made  by  our  regiment  in  fine 
style.  The  men  skirmished  over  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles, 
and  did  their  work  well.  Neither  the  musketry  nor  the 
artillery  delayed  or  embarrassed  our  progress,  which  was  as 
rapid  as  an  ordinary  day's  march.  The  impetus  and  stim 
ulant  of  pursuit  spurred  on  the  march,  over  a  difficult  and 
broken  country.  At  the  '  Narrow  Pass,'  where  the  Shenan- 
doah  and  a  creek  crossing  the  pike  a  little  below  almost 
come  together,  but  are  kept  asunder  by  a  piece  of  rock,  over 
which  the  road  passes  with  just  the  width  of  a  carriage  path, 
was  the  sharpest  conflict.  It  was  mainly  an  4  artillery  duel,' 
as  the  phrase  is.  Our  skirmishers  had  learned,  however, 
before  this,  that,  to  their  deployed  line,  the  shell,  though 
assailing  the  ear  with  terror,  were  sound  and  fury  signifying 
nothing.  Their  effect  was  aimed  at  the  reserves  or  our  ar 
tillery,  and  it  really  had  an  unpleasant  sound  as  it  whizzed 
or  spanged  near  us.  It  is  high  time  that  being  '  under  fire ' 
should  be  among  our  '  has  beens.'  I  am  quite  satisfied  that 
the  order  and  discipline  of  the  regiment  will  tell  there  as  it 
has  everywhere  else,  and  our  recent  experience  is  a  proof  of 

it I  suppose  you  must  have  read  General  Shields's 

1  private''  letter  about  the  battle  at  Winchester.  A  more  bare 
faced  series  of  Irish  romances  I  never  read.  The  man  actu 
ally  has  the  effrontery  to  connect  his  fortunate  blunders 
into  a  chain  of  shrewd  stratagems,  and  with  after-event 
wisdom  to  glorify  himself.  The  idea  of  a  man  in  bed,  witli 
a  broken  arm,  four  miles  from  the  field,  not  knowing  of  the 
enemy's  force  or  positions  till  four,  P.  M.,  directing  and  guid 
ing  a  battle  that  commenced  at  once  and  closed  in  two  hours  ! ! 
Pshaw  !  It  is  like  Sir  Lucius  OTrigger  or  Mickey  Free. 

"  '  An  attack  having  many  of  the  elements  of  a  surprise,' 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT.  227 

says  General  Banks  in  his  order,  praising  the  courage  and 
constancy  of  the  soldiers. 

"  '  Och,  sure,'  says  our  Irish  general,  turning  with  a 
shrewd  wink  to  the  public  ;  <  but  it  was  a  sthratagim  o'  me 
own.  It 's  the  clivir  bye  that  I  am,  be  dad !  Troth,  but  I 
decaved  'em.  And  I,  too,  with  only  twelve  thousand  men 
to  me  back,  and  only  a  brigadier.  It 's  I  should  be  major- 
general  at  laste,  then  ye  would  see.  Gineral  Banks,  indade ! 
Och,  he  's  a  foine  man  intirely,  and  thrates  me  well.  But 
it 's  I  that  inwents  the  sthratagims  !  ' 

"  Possibly  there  will  be  truth  in  history  hereafter  ;  there 
is  none  in  the  present  record. 

"  I  advise  you  to  subscribe  for  or  buy  regularly  the  Con- 
gregationalist  newspaper.  It  contains  our  Chaplain's  letters, 
which  I  consider  very  clever  and  entertaining. 

"  Is  it  not  about  father's  birthday  ?  At  any  rate,  I  may 
wish  him  a  happy  return  next  year,  and  may  I  be  there  to 
see." 

"CAMP  NEAR  EDINBURG,  April  6,  1862. 

"  It  might  be  a  June  morning,  by  its  sunshine  and  warmth. 
This  broken  valley,  the  '  intervale '  of  two  sharp,  dark-wooded 
ranges  of  cuts,  itself  broken  and  furrowed  by  impatient 
4  runs,'  as  they  call  every  water-flow  in  Virginia,  might  be  a 
fitting  scene  for  a  pleasure  journey.  All  the  air  might  a 
Sabbath  stillness  hold,  but  another  solemn  influence  is  every 
where  present.  Within  a  mile  of  our  quiet  camp  the  out 
posts  of  two  armies  are  watching  one  another.  The  cannon 
and  rifle  tone  break  the  silence  now  and  then.  If  you  go 
down  to  our  line  of  pickets,  you  will  see  the  men  watching 
with  eager  though  patient  eyes  for  a  good  shot ;  and  as  the 
smoke  breaks  from  some  cover  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
stream,  you  may  hear  a  ball  whistle  near  you,  and  some 
sentry  near  by  will  send  his  quick  reply.  I  had  quite  an 
animated  day  yesterday.  As  field-officer  of  the  day,  I  had 
charge  of  our  line  of  outposts.  I  found  in  the  morning  that 
the  Rebel  pickets  were  quite  importunate  and  vexatious.  I 


228  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

also  thought  it  important  to  change  the  position  of  some  of 
our  pickets  ;  and,  in  order  to  do  so,  desired  to  reconnoitre 
the  ground.  I  was  soon  interrupted  in  my  quiet  use  of  my 
field-glass  by  the  whistle  of  bullets  following  the  crack  of 
rifles.  The  devils  had  probably  worked  down  through  the 
ravines.  I  moved  my  horse  quietly  under  cover  of  a  small 
house,  and  could  listen  to  the  sound  without  exposing  any 
other  sense.  I  soon  changed  my  position ;  and  thought, 
that,  as  the  road  went  quite  too  close  to  the  river,  I  would 
take  the  field.  But  I  had  not  gone  far  in  that  direction 
when  a  rapid  volley  assailed  me  from  behind  a  straw-rick, 
and  I  was  again  led  to  turn  back,  more  especially  as  some 
of  the  shots  seemed  to  be  from  some  quarter  quite  too  near 
for  security.  That  is  the  working  of  these  Rebels.  They 
work  themselves  into  safe  covers,  and  pop  away.  Even  their 
artillery,  from  which  we  have  three  or  four  attacks  every 
day,  is  often  so  masked  that  even  the  smoke  fails  to  disclose 
it.  I  leaped  my  horse  over  a  fence,  and  made  arrangements 
for  my  picket  on  a  line  a  little  less  exposed.  But  you  can 
get  some  idea  of  the  persistency  of  the  devils.  They  seem 
to  act  with  a  bitter  personal  hate  and  venom.  In  my  ride 
yesterday  afternoon  I  came  to  a  house  about  which  there 
was  a  gathering  of  curious  soldiers.  The  poor  woman  was 
in  great  trouble.  The  Rebel  battery  had  just  thrown  two 
shells  through  the  house,  shattering  windows  .and  plastering, 
&c.  She  was  in  terror,  and  her  husband  was  away  serving 
in  the  army  whose  missiles  had  terrified  her.  *  Pa  is  pressed 
into  the  militia,'  said  the  little  boy  to  me.  i  He  's  gone 
away  to  New  Market.'  Yet  these  people  explain  their  mis 
fortunes  by  our  invasion,  not  by  their  rebellion.  '  I  wish 
you  'd  move  your  men  away  or  stop  their  firing,'  said  a 
young  girl  to  me  at  a  farm-house.  '  Our  boys  '11  shell  the 
house  sure,  if  you  don't  take  care.'  They  cling  to  their 
allegiance  to  their  flying  army,  —  and  why  should  n't  they  ? 
It  is  made  up  of  their  brothers  and  sons  and  lovers.  We 
find  very  few  men.  Indeed,  their  practical  conscription 
leaves  nothing  male  and  able-bodied  out  of  the  ranks. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  229 

"  But  I  must  not  omit  to  tell  you  of  my  revenge  on  the 
men  who  fired  at  me.  The  straw-rick  stood  just  in  front  of 
a  barn.  From  the  hill  on  which  a  section  of  our  battery 
was  posted  it  was  a  good  mark.  On  my  return  to  that 
point  I  directed  a  few  shell  to  be  thrown  there.  With  lucky 
aim  two  of  them  struck  the  barn  itself ;  and  their  explosion 
had,  at  least,  the  result  to  scatter  the  men  within,  who  were 
seen  to  run  back  to  the  woods. 

"  We  hear  an  odd  story  of  an  incident  in  the  battle  at 
Winchester.  It  shows  that  the  Second  Regiment  has  a 
name  in  this  valley.  Probably  its  long  continuance  here, 
and  the  fact  that  a  flag  was  given  to  it  at  Harper's  Ferry, 
have  attracted  Rebel  attention  to  it.  It  is  said  by  some  of 
the  soldiers  who  were  in  the  battle,  that  when  one  of  the 
Ohio  regiments  was  broken  by  the  Rebel  fire,  and  faltered  a 
little,  some  of  the  Rebels  jumped  up  from  the  corner  of  their 
stone-wall  and  shouted,  'Where  's  Gordon's  bloody  Second? 
Bring  it  on.'  A  good  deal  of  curiosity  was  also  expressed 
by  the  Rebel  wounded  and  prisoners  to  know  about  the  reg 
iment,  and  if  it  was  here.  They  might  any  of  them  have 
seen  it  the  other  day  if  they  would  only  have  ivaited! 

"  It  seems  that  the  Rebels  swell  their  numbers  now  by  a 
systematic  and  general  compulsion.  Such  troops  will  only 
be  an  embarrassment  to  them,  I  think.  But  their  unscru 
pulous  tyranny  spares  nothing.  An  old  free  negro  woman, 
living  in  a  small  hut  near  our  camp,  says,  '  They  took  away 
my  son  last  summer  to  Manassas,  and  I  've  had  a  hard  winter 
without  him  ;  but  they  left  me  my  young  son,  a  poor  cripple 
boy.  The  other  day  they  come  and  took  him,  and  my  horse 
and  wagon  to  carry  off  their  sick.  He  's  a  poor,  weak  boy, 
and  all  I  've  got,  but  they  would  n't  spare  him  to  me.  I 
can't  help  it,  but  I  feel  more  kind  to  you  all  whom  I  never 
saw  than  to  them  that  I  was  born  among.'  So  she  talked 
on  sadly  of  her  troubles. 

"  Look  at  another  picture  of  this  free  and  happy  people, 
with  their  patriarchal  institutions.  Colonel  Gordon  stopped 


230  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

for  the  night  at  a  house  near  Snicker's  Ferry.  The  master 
was  out  of  the  room,  and  a  mulatto  slave  woman  was  busy 
about  the  table.  '  You  are  happy ,  are  you  not  ?  '  says  Colo 
nel  G.  l  No,'  with  a  dull,  whining,  sad  tone  in  her  reply. 
'  Your  master  's  kind  to  you,  is  n't  he  ?  '  6  No,  he  sold  my 
mother  fifteen  years  ago.'  That  memory  and  loss  had  been 
her  life  and  sorrow  for  fifteen  years,  and  it  would  last. 
Pretty  pictures  of  pastoral  content ! 

"  '  Do  not  take  my  corn  and  grain,'  says  Mr.  Ransom,  of 
Charlestown,  a  courtly  Virginian  gentleman.  '  I  've  a  large 
family  of  negroes  dependent  on  me,  and  I  must  have  enough 
left  to  feed  them,  and  to  take  care  of  my  horses  and  cows 
till  spring.  My  poor  servants  will  starve.' 

"  The  army  moves  on  ;  a  week  passes,  and  Mr.  Ransom 
may  be  seen  taking  care  of  his  single  remaining  cow  and 
horse.  His  dependent  servants  have  taken  care  of  them 
selves,  and  Mr.  Ransom  is  rubbing  his  eyes  over  the  abrupt 
lightening  of  his  burdens.  Let  us  clear  our  minds  of  cant, 
—  pro  or  anti  slavery.  There  is  full  as  much  of  the  former 
cant  as  of  the  latter. 

"  It  was  Sunday  when  I  began  this  letter  ;  it  is  now  Mon 
day.  We  make  no  movement  yet.  The  Rebel  shells  have 
not  been  thrown  among  us  for  a  whole  day  !  so  life  is  a  lit 
tle  monotonous." 

"CAMP  NEAR  EDINBURG,  April  9,  1862. 

"  Scene,  camp,  snowing  and  raining,  and  blowing  angrily ; 
Time,  Tuesday  morning.  The  Major  Second  Massachusetts 
Regiment  enters  his  tent,  shaking  the  dripping  oil-skin  cap 
and  India-rubber  clothing.  He  discovers  John,  his  John, 
surnamed  Strong  i'  the  arm,  or  Armstrong,  digging  a  hole 
within  the  damp  tent  to  receive  some  coals  from  the  hickory 
fire  that  is  trying  to  blaze  without.  John  (loquitur).  Soger- 
ing  is  queer  business,  sir.  M.  Yes,  John.  J.  But  it's 
hard,  too,  sir,  on  them  that  follers  it.  M.  Yes,  John.  J. 
It 's  asy  for  them  as  sits  to  home,  sir,  by  the  fire,  and  talks 
about  sogers  and  victories,  very  fine  and  asy  like.  It 's 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  231 

little  they  know  of  the  raal  work,  sir.  M.  Yes,  John.  J. 
'T  would  n't  be  quite  the  same,  sir,  if  they  was  out  here 
theirselves  trying  to  warm  theirselves  at  a  hole  in  the 
ground,  sir.  M.  No,  John.  Then  the  coals  are  brought  on, 
and  a  feeble  comfort  is  attained.  The  woods  are  heavy 
without  with  snow  and  ice.  In  the  afternoon  I  visit  the 
pickets,  and  spend  a  chilly  and  wearisome  day.  This  morn 
ing  is  again  like  yesterday.  ,  who  has  shown  himself 

a  trump  in  our  recent  exigencies,  but  who  has  certain  eccen 
tricities  of  manner  and  speech,  came  to  breakfast  this  morn 
ing,  rubbing  his  hands  and  saying,  <  You  would  n't  hardly 
know  that  this  was  the  South  if  you  did  n't  keep  looking  on 
the  map,  would  you  ?  hey  ?  What  say  ?  ' 

"  Since  I  wrote  the  above  I  have  spent  two  hours  in  the 
hail-storm  visiting  pickets.  This,  then,  is  an  invasion  of  the 
South,  query  ? 

"  We  receive  this  morning  news  of  the  capture  of  Island 
No.  10,  and  the  defeat  of  Beauregard. 

"  Westward  the  star  of  —  victory  takes  its  way.  How 
long  can  this  thing  last  ?  Is  it  not  collapsing  with  occasional 
throes  of  vigor,  and  are  not  these  spasms  the  twitchings  that 
precede  death  ?  I  cannot  say.  But  of  one  thing  I  am  sure, 
that  it  will  be  warmer  farther  south  ;  so  I  wish  to  go  there. 
It  is  a  week  that  we  have  hesitated  on  the  bank  of  this  stony 
creek  ;  soon  we  will  move  on.  Our  signal-station  on  the 
neighboring  mountain  can  see  Jackson's  camps  beyond 
Mount  Jackson,  and  his  wagons,  with  teams  hitched,  ready 
to  move  at  a  moment's  notice.  We  can  advance  again  at 
any  moment,  by  a  prolonged  skirmish. 

"  I  wish  you  all  at  home  much  better  weather  than  we 
have,  and  the  same  peace  and  quietness." 

"CAMP  NEAR  EDINBDRG,  VIRGINIA,  April  11,  1862. 

"  DEAR  D ,  —  Reduced  in  my  finances :  I  have  not  been 

paid  since  January  1.  Reduced  in  my  commissariat :  we 
are  faring  on  soldiers'  rations,  our  best  luxury  being  hard- 


232  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

bread  scouse.  Reduced  in  buoyancy :  I  have  not  heard  a 
shell  whiz  or  a  bullet  whistle  for  three  days.  Reduced  in 
temperature :  it  has  been  snowing  two  days.  Reduced  in 

aspiration  :    they  have   made  a  brigadier  ;  who   now 

would  seek  promotion?  Reduced  in  ardor:  rumor  says 
the  Rebels  are  quitting  Virginia.  Reduced,  in  a  word,  in 
everything,  except  size :  the  final  reduction  came,  when,  on 
Thursday,  April  10,  I  received,  on  this  outpost  of  invasion, 
a  note  from  you  out  of  the  midst  of  such  congenial  and 
agreeable  companionship  tantalizing  me  with  the  suggestion 
that  I  should  join  you  last  Monday.  I  would  I  had  the 
wings  of  memory  to  do  it  with.  But  alas  !  my  face  is  turned 
toward  the  south,  and  my  future  is  in  other  hands  than  my 

own We  might  have  hoped  to  see  you,  had  not  the 

perversity  of  General  Jackson  or  the  '  stratagem  '  of  General 
Shields  turned  us  back  from  Manassas,  whither  our  steps 
tended  a  fortnight  ago.  Well,  there  is  a  sequence,  per 
chance  a  wisdom,  in  events,  that  is  better  than  our  plans  or 
hopes.  I  cannot  but  rejoice  that  every  day  seems  to  bring 
us  nearer  to  a  military  success  over  this  Rebellion.  The 
political  solution  of  our  difficulties  is  quite  a  more  serious 
embarrassment.  I  see  no  wisdom  in  the  government,  and 
seem  to  myself  to  be  fighting  in  the  dark.  One  thing,  how 
ever,  is  clear, — the  more  sharp  and  decisive  our  victory  over 
their  forces,  the  easier  will  it  be  to  re-establish  a  wise  gov- 

.ernment  over  them We  have  had  a  very  hard  time 

since  we  came  into  the  field  in  February,  and  cannot  look 
for  much  else  at  present." 

"CAMP  NEAR  EDINBURG,  VIRGINIA,  April  13,  1862. 

"  MY  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  We  have  been  stirred  by  the 
news  from  Grant's  and  Buell's  armies  since  I  wrote,  and 
even  more,  perhaps,  by  the  attitude  of  McClellan's  forces 
near  Yorktown.  This  letter  can  hardly  have  a  rapid  flight 
enough  to  reach  you  as  soon  as  decisive  news  from  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac.  I  hope  large  results ;  yet,  in  doing  so,  I 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  233 

must  shut  my  eyes  to  everything  around  me,  torpid  as  it  is 
with  the  paralysis  of  —  incapacity,  shall  I  say  ?  or  mis 
chance  ?  To-day  we  obey  the  order  of  the  War  Department, 
and  give  thanks  for  our  victories.  The  regiment  will  shortly 
be  formed  for  that  purpose.  The  time  is  a  fitting  one.  It  is 
the  anniversary  of  that  sombre  Sunday  of  the  dishonored 
flag  which  brought  us  the  news  of  the  fall  of  Sumter.  It  is 
also  a  fit  time  for  McClellan's  coup  de  grace.  I  received 
yesterday  your  copy  of  Howard's  letter  from  Pea  Ridge. 
Its  clear  description  of  what  he  saw  and  heard  and  did  there 
is  very  interesting.  After  all,  I  was  wiser  for  him  than  for 
myself,  and  urged  him  to  go  to  the  field  where  victory  has 
come  to  be  almost  monotonous. 

"  Our  life  here  since  I  wrote  is  full  of  emptiness.  Picket 
duty  and  occasional  shelling.  Now  and  then  I  go  down  and 
let  the  enemy's  pickets  fire  at  me,  just  by  way  of  keeping  up 
the  illusion  of  war.  One  of  our  pickets  the  other  day  got 
hit,  but  the  miss  is  the  rule.  Out  of  this  nettle  safety 
we  will  pluck  the  flower  danger  one  of  these  days,  but  not 
yet 

"  Since  I  laid  down  my  pen  our  service  has  taken  place. 
I  watched  the  faces  of  the  men,  and  missed  the  light  which 
gladdens  them  whenever  they  are  called  to  action.  Veterans 
in  everything  but  conflict,  it  only  quickens  their  impatience 
to  hear  of  other  achievements. 

"  We  shall  stay  here  some  days  longer,  I  think.  Sub 
sistence,  clothing,  transportation,  all  limp  and  halt  and 
stagger. 

"  We  are  the  most  timid  and  scrupulous  invaders  in  all 
history.  It  must  be  delicious  to  the  finer  feelings  of  some 
people  to  watch  our  velvet-footed  advance.  It  keeps  me  in 
a  state  of  chronic  contempt." 


234  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 


CHAPTEE    XIV. 

LETTERS  FROM  BIVOUAC  NEAR  NEW  MARKET,  YA.  —  CAMP  BE 
TWEEN  NEW  MARKET  AND  SPARTA.  —  CAMP  NEAR  HARRISON- 
BURG. —  IN  BIVOUAC,  OPPOSITE  NEW  MARKET. 

"BIVOUAC  NEAR  NEW  MARKET,  VIRGINIA. 
Raining  from  the  East.     Easter  Sunday,  April  20,  1862. 

"  "T  OOKING  back,  it  seems  an  age  since  we  dwelt  peace- 

|_J  fully  in  the  wooded  camp  near  Edinburg.  It  was 
Wednesday  night  that  our  marching  orders  came.  On 
Thursday  morning  at  a  quarter  before  two  we  had  reveille, 
and  marched  before  light,  under  a  pale  moon,  toward  Mount 
Jackson. 

"  Shields's  division  had  gone  on  in  advance.  The  day 
was  a  glowing  one,  and  the  valley  spread  itself  out  before  us 
like  a  garden  in  its  fresh  green. 

"  After  a  short  halt  at  Mount  Jackson,  which  is  a  town, 
and  filled  with  evidences  of  Rebel  occupation,  such  as  large 
hospitals,  one  of  them  unfinished,  we  were  ordered  to  march 
round  to  '  turn  the  enemy's  left.' 

"Our  path  was  a  rough  one,  through  a  river,  over  rocks, 
and  through  deep  mud,  on,  on,  on.  We  heard  occasional 
cannonading  over  toward  the  centre,  where  Shields's  force 
remained  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle,  to  await  our  tedious 
circuit.  The  day  was  long  and  hot ;  the  artillery  labored 
over  the  almost  impassable  road.  I  went  on  in  advance, 
with  some  pioneers  to  aid  a  little  by  removing  obstacles.  As 
we  passed  through  the  little  village  of  Forrestville,  a  party 
of  young  girls  sang  Dixie  to  us.  I  bought  a  loaf  of  bread 
there  of  a  woman,  and  paid»her  five  cents  in  silver.  '  It 's 
too  much,'  said  she.  4  No,'  said  I.  i  It 's  more  money  than 
I  've  seen  for  a  year,'  said  she.  On  we  go.  We  have  got 
round  the  enemy's  position.  It  is  dark ;  too  late  to  ford  the 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  235 

North  Fork  of  the  Sheiiandoah  to  rejoin  the  rest  of  the  army, 
who  have  now  entered  New  Market,  which  Ashby  even  has 
left.  Tired  and  foot-sore,  we  lay  down  to  sleep  in  the  woods. 
Marching  for  eighteen  hours,  and  such  marching !  the  biv 
ouac,  in  the  warm,  pleasant  night  is  a  luxury.  The  next 
morning  we  start  again,  and  ford  the  Sheiiandoah,  and  get  on 
to  the  turnpike  at  New  Market  which  we  had  left  at  Mount 
Jackson.  The  Sheiiandoah  is  swift,  and  up  to  one's  middle. 
Fording  is  an  exciting,  amusing,  long  task.  It  is  finished 
at  last,  and  the  brigade,  led  by  our  regiment,  moves  through 
the  town  of  New  Market  to  the  saucy  strains  of  Yankee 
Doodle.  We  move  two  miles  beyond  the  town,  and  bivouac 
on  a  hillside.  Our  tents  and  baggage  are  all  sixteen  miles 
back,  at  Edinburg. 

"  It  is  late  Friday  evening  before  we  get  bivouacked. 
Many  of  the  men  are  barefoot  and  without  rations.  Satur 
day  morning  it  begins  early  to  rain,  and  ever  since  we  have 
been  dripping  under  this  easterly  storm.  Luckily,  Mrs. 
Williamson,  whose  husband  is  with  the  '  other  army/  and 
who  has  a  fine  farm  and  a  roomy,  old-fashioned,  ante-Revolu- 
tion-built  house,  surrounded  by  generous  barns  and  out 
buildings,  swarming  with  negroes  of  every  shade  and  size, 
—  luckily,  Mrs.  Williamson  and  her  six  little  boys  and  her 
aged  uncle  need  our  protection ;  and,  in  return,  she  gives 
us  a  shelter  for  our  meals,  and  so  alleviates  the  adversity 
which  had  reduced  our  commissariat  to  starvation.  Mr. 
Williamson  is  a  major  in  the  Rebel  army.  His  wife  is  true 
to  him  and  to  Virginia.  The  eldest  boy,  of  fifteen  years,  is 
a  stubborn  little  traitor.  Mrs.  Williamson  invited  us  all  to 
tea  on  the  first  night  of  our  arrival.  She  spread  a  most 
bounteous  meal  for  us,  but  hardly  sweetened  it  by  the  bitter 
ness  with  which  she  snarled  at  our  invasion.  The  general 
statement  that  these  people  are  traitors,  and  deserve  all  the 
horrors  of  civil  war,  is  easy ;  but  the  individual  case,  as  it 
comes  up  under  your  eye,  showing  the  helpless  family  in 
their  dismay  at  our  approach,  can  hardly  fail  to  excite  sym- 


236  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

pathy.  When  we  came  into  New  Market  on  Friday,  we 
met  General  Banks  in  high  spirits.  He  complimented  our 
march,  and  said  the  Secretary  of  War  had  telegraphed 
thanks  to  us,  &c.,  &c.,  that  when  our  movement  was  per 
ceived,  the  rear  of  Jackson's  force  fled  hastily,  &c.  My  own 
opinion  is,  and  was  from  the  beginning,  that  the  movement 
was  all  nonsense,  and  pretty  expensive  silliness  for  us. 

"  Jackson  was  ready  to  run,  and  began  to  do  so  as  soon 
as  we  began  to  move.  But  perhaps  we  hastened  him  a 
little.  Here  we  are,  eighty  miles  from  our  supplies,  all  our 
wagons  on  the  road,  our  tents  and  baggage  behind,  our  ra 
tions  precarious,  and  following  a  mirage  into  the  desert. 
Well,  the  Secretary  of  War  is  much  obliged  to  us  '  for  the 
brilliant  and  successful  operations  of  this  day.'  So  we  ought 
to  be  happy,  and  to  conclude  that  glory  looks  very  different 
to  those  who  see  it  close  to.  Our  news  now  is,  that  Jackson 
is  hurrying  to  Richmond  as  fast  as  possible.  We  are  prob 
ably  Pattersonized,  as  General  Shields  calls  it,  and  shall  be 
too  late  for  any  decisive  part  in  what  is  now  expected  as  the 
great  battle  of  Yorktown.  Still  I  do  not  regard  it  as  impos 
sible  that  the  wheel  may  so  turn  as  to  give  us  a  little  con- 
spicuousness  in  the  next  movements.  It  is  our  misfortune 
not  to  be  in  a  condition  of  outfit,  transportation,  and  supply 
to  enable  us  to  do  much.  We  are  working,  too,  on  a  fright 
fully  long  line  of  operations.  Still  hope. 

"  Aha  !  the  clouds  begin  to  break.  I  wish  you  a  pleasant 
Easter  Sunday.  One  thing  at  least  we  may  hope  for,  that 
before  another  Easter  day  we  may  be  at  home  again  ;  for 
this  Rebellion  will  die  rapidly  when  we  hit  its  vitals.  They 
have  not  been  hit  yet,  however. 

"  I  wish  you  could  look  at  our  regiment  under  rude  shel 
ters  of  rails  and  straw,  and  dripping  in  this  cold  storm.  Our 
shoes  and  clothing  came  up  yesterday,  and  this  morning  we 
are  giving  them  out.  So  we  are  not  wholly  helpless  yet. 

"  The  first  night  that  we  bivouacked  here  a  charge  was 
made  on  our  New  York  battery.  A  desperate  cow  swept  in 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  237 

upon  it,  and  actually  knocked  down  and  trampled  on  two 
men  before  it  could  be  shot.  It  was  a  gallant  charge !  You 
need  have  no  anxiety  about  us.  We  are  safe  enough.  Our 
future  is  uncertain,  and  we  are  wet." 

"  CAMP  BETWEEN  NE\V  MARKET  AND  SPARTA, 
Thursday,  April  24,  1862. 

"  When  I  awoke  on  Easter  morning  in  my  dripping  biv 
ouac,  and  looked  gloomily  at  my  boots,  which,  with  studied 
carelessness,  I  had  so  placed  as  to  receive  the  stream  from 
the  flimsy  shelter  over  me,  and  which  were  full  of  water, 
when,  more  than  all,  I  poured  the  water  out  and  put  the 
boots  on,  I  might  have  known,  by  intuitive  conjecture,  that 
our  forces  would  the  next  day  occupy  Sparta.  The  storm 
did  not  abate  until  Tuesday,  and  it  left  us  in  hopeless  mud 
and  rain.  Our  advance  is  now  in  Harrisonburg,  and  Jack 
son's  force  has  crossed  the  gap,  and  is  on  its  way  to  Gor 
don  sville.  <  The  Valley '  is  cleared  ;  and  General  Banks  has 
been  enjoying  himself  with  a  '  general  order  '  of  congratula 
tion,  back-patting,  and  praise,  worthy  of  little  Jack  Horner, 
and  his  thumb  and  his  plum.  Still,  one  fact  is  stubborn. 
Our  column  has  penetrated  Virginia  one  hundred  miles,  and 
is  very  near  to  important  Rebel  lines  of  communication,  and 
has  achieved  important  results  with  reasonable  promptness 
and  without  disaster. 

"  We  hear  to-day  that  the  freshets  of  the  Potomac  and 
Shenandoah  have  combined  to  carry  away  the  railroad  bridge 
over  the  Potomac  at  Harper's  Ferry.  This  will  interfere 
with  our  supplies,  and,  I  think,  hasten  our  course  over  the 
Blue  Ridge  towards  Gordons ville. 

"  I  have  enjoyed  for  the  past  two  days  the  slight  allevia 
tion  of  weather.  Tuesday  afternoon  the  Colonel  and  I  rode 
through  the  gap  opposite  New  Market,  over  the  Massannattan 
Mountain,  into  the  other  valley  which  is  bounded  by  the 
Blue  Ridge.  The  road  is  a  graded,  gradual  ascent,  winding 
in  and  out.  At  its  summit  is  one  of  the  signal-stations, 


238  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

whence  the  view  into  both  valleys  is  very  fine,  and,  under 
the  changing,  clouded,  and  showery  light,  the  scene  had  a 
great  charm,  heightened  by  the  camps  which  were  scattered 
over  the  green  fields  of  the  valley.  We  descended  into  the 
other  valley  to  visit  the  Third  Wisconsin,  a  regiment  of 
Colonel  Gordon's  brigade,  which  is  stationed  there  to  protect 
two  bridges  over  the  South  Fork  of  the  Shenandoah  and 
another  stream. 

"  Yesterday  was  a  bright,  breezy,  sunshiny  day,  tempting 
one  strongly  to  out-door  life,  —  otherwise  I  should  have 
written  you  a  word  on  my  birthday.  Colonel  Gordon  and 
I  drove  down  to  Rood's  Hill  to  examine  the  position  which 
Jackson  occupied  there.  We  found  it  of  great  natural 
strength,  with  a  river  on  either  flank,  and  a  broad,  flat  bot 
tom,  over  which  our  approach  would  have  been  made. 

"  We  saw  one  scene  in  the  course  of  our  ride  which  illus 
trates  the  vile  tyranny,  oppression,  and  outrage  which  has 
been  practised  by  the  Rebels  here.  A  neatly-dressed  woman, 
with  five  little  children,  —  one  in  her  arms,  —  was  crossing 
the  field.  We  stopped  and  spoke  to  her.  ( Indeed  it  is,' 
said  she, '  hard  times  for  poor  folks.  Jackson  took  my  hus 
band  off  with  him.  They  gave  him  his  choice  to  go  or  death. 
I  expect  him  back,  though,  now  that  you  've  got  here.  He 
promised  to  run  away  the  first  chance.'  Comment  on  such 
a  '  volunteer '  system  is  unnecessary.  I  told  you  that  we 
were  living  near  the  house  of  Mr.  Williamson,  and  took  our 
meals  there.  I  am  now  writing  in  the  parlor,  which  is 
brigade  head-quarters.  The  husband  and  father  of  the 
family  is  off  with  the  army,  but  his  uncle,  the  owner  of  the 
farm,  an  old  man  of  eighty  years,  is  here.  He  is  an  intel 
ligent  man.  He  heard  John  Randolph's  maiden  speech  in 
Congress  at  Philadelphia.  He  sat  in  Richmond  in  the  Con 
vention  to  amend  Virginia's  constitution  with  Madison  and 
Monroe.  His  farm  here  contains  sixteen  hundred  acres, 
and  as  he  sees  his  rail-fences  disappearing  before  our  camps 
he  recalls  how  it  looked  in  New  Jersey  years  after  Washing- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  239 

ton's  army  had  wintered  there  ;  not  a  fence  for  miles.  This 
helps  his  philosophy  a  little,  but  he  is  a  bitter  Secessionist, 
though  his  hope  flickers  under  the  blast  of  Northern  invasion. 
"  One  of  the  most  amusing  things  connected  with  our 
movement  into  this  country  is  the  constant  and  odd  exhibi 
tion  of  its  effect  on  the  negro.  Day  before  yesterday  our 
pickets  brought  in  six  contrabands.  They  had  fled  from 
above  Harrisonburg,  to  avoid  being  drawn  off  with  Jackson's 
army.  One  of  them  was  almost  white  ;  another  was  of  quite 
mature  years,  and  very  much  disposed  to  philosophize  and 
consider  and  pause  over  this  emancipation  question,  and 
act '  for  the  best.'  I  must  try  to  give  you  a  snatch  from 
the  dialogue  between  Colonel  Gordon  and  the  negroes  ;  but 
I  must  leave  out  the  brogue  and  laugh  and  aspect  of  the 
men  which  made  up  the  incomparable  effect.  After  asking 
them  where  they  came  from,  &c.,  the  Colonel,  '  Well,  why 
didn't  you  go  off  with  your  master  ?  '  Ans.  I  did  n't  want 
to  go  South.  Q.  The  South  are  your  friends,  ain't  they  ? 
A.  No,  dey  is  n't  no  friends  to  colored  people.  Q.  Well, 
what  made  you  think  we  should  be  ?  Did  n't  your  master 
tell  you  we  wanted  to  steal  you  and  sell  you  to  Cuba  ?  A. 
Yes,  but  we  don't  believe  no  such  nonsense  as  dat.  De 
Norf  is  our  friends.  I  've  heard  all  about  de  Norf,  and  I 
never  see  black  men  chained  together  and  driven  off  to  de 
Norf,  but  I  have  seen  'em,  hundreds  of  'em  driven  off  Souf. 
I  'd  ruffer  trust  to  de  Norf,  and  I  'd  like  to  try  it.  Q.  Well, 
but  you  can't  work  and  take  care  of  yourself,  can  you  ? 
Your  master  always  took  care  of  you,  did  n't  he  ?  A.  Bress 
you,  if  de  nigger  don't  work,  who  does  ?  De  white  folks 
don't  do  no  work.  I  've  hired  myself  out  for  five  years, 
made  de  bargain  myself,  and  my  master  got  de  money. 
Yah  !  yah  !  yah  !  And  they  all  laughed.  Q.  Well,  you 
want  to  go  Norf,  do  you  ?  A.  Yes.  Then  the  philosopher, 
who  was  named  George,  reasoned  a  little  more  about  it.  At 
last  the  Colonel  said :  '  Well,  you  are  free  ;  you  can  go 
where  you  please.  You  ain't  slaves  any  longer,  unless  you 


240  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

choose  to  go  back.  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  Ain't 
you  going  to  do  something  ?  ain't  you  going  to  turn  somer 
sets  ?  '  The  negroes  laughed  and  were  exuberant.  '  Turn 
over,  George,  turn  over,'  said  the  darkies  ;  and  down  the 
old  fellow  dumped,  and  went  heels  over  head  on  the  floor 
amid  a  general  conviviality. 

"  That 's  what  I  call  the  practical  effect  of  invasion. 
Where  the  army  goes,  slavery  topples  and  falls.  For  my 
part,  I  enjoy  it  hugely. 

"  As  I  write  this  letter,  two  men  are  brought  in.  They 
are  just  out  of  Jackson's  army.  They  live  over  on  the 
Blue  Ridge.  A  fortnight  ago  they  were  hunted  into  the 
woods  by  cavalry,  shot  at,  and  caught  and  put  into  the 
army.  They  say  that  the  woods  are  full  of  men  hiding  in 
the  same  way,  and  that  the  cavalry  are  hunting  them  out. 
4  The  South  is  fighting  for  independence,'  says  Lord  John 
Russell ;  '  the  North,  for  empire.'  '  No  man's  liberty  of 
speech  or  person  is  interrupted,'  says  Jefferson  Davis. 

"  I  believe  I  am  fighting  in  God's  cause  against  the  most 
diabolical  conspirators,  rebels,  and  tyrants  in  the  world. 

"  The  bright  sun  of  yesterday  dried  the  ground  so  much 
that  we  had  battalion  drill,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  drill 
ing  the  battalion.  This  morning,  however,  this  treacherous 
climate  again  betrayed  us,  and  it  is  snowing  !  for  all  day,  I 
fear. 

"  I  rejoice  to  receive  your  letter  of  April  14,  just  brought 
in.  It  brings  me  news  of  Howard  and  William  and  home, 
in  which  I  delight.  I  hope  William's  forebodings  are  not 
well  founded,  but  McClellan  must  gather  fruit  soon  or  go  to 
the  wall.  Still,  silence  to  all  clamor  against  him,  and  let 
us  await  the  issue.  I  agree  with  Howard,  that  this  military 
life  gets  wearisome." 

"CAMP  NEAR  HARRISONBURG,  April  26,  1862,  Saturday. 

"  Rain  !  rain  !  rain  !  March  !  march  !  march  !  What 
a  life  !  We  marched  fifteen  miles  yesterday,  in  mud  and 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  241 

rain,  to  tins  point,  and  got  into  camp  at  night  in  reasonable 
comfort,  but  almost  without  rations,  and  now  we  are  busy 
with  the  miserable  interrogatory  -of  what  to  eat  ? 

"  Such  is  our  experience.  Colonel  Andrews  is  again  on 
detached  duty,  and,  for  the  past  few  days,  I  have  been  in 
command.  It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  difficulty  of 
taking  care  of  a  regiment  when  the  whole  Quartermaster 
and  Commissary  Departments  of  the  army  corps  are  in  such 
hopeless  confusion  and  debility. 

"  No  other  army  corps  has  the  obstacles  to  contend 
against  of  this  kind  that  we  have.  At  Yorktown  they  have 
the  sea,  and  the  Western  rivers  bear  supplies  as  well  as 
gunboats.  Here  our  wagons  cannot  bring  supplies  enough 
to  last  until  they  return  from  a  second  trip.  We  shall  be 
driven  to  forage  from  the  country ;  and  I  do  not  see  any 
system  adopted  wise  enough  and  prompt  enough  for  that 
effort.  But  there  is  no  use  in  croaking ;  we  shall  get  out 
of  the  woods  somehow,  I  suppose. 

"  Among  other  short  supplies,  we  are  wholly  without 
newspapers  since  a  week  ago.  What  is  the  news  ?  I  hope 
McClellan  is  silencing  his  opponents  by  silencing  the  enemy's 
batteries.  That 's  his  best  answer. 

"  Well,  the  first  year  of  my  military  service  expires  this 
week.  It  has  been  a  busy  one.  I  am  willing  to  enter  on 
another,  but  I  wish  I  could  see  the  beginning  of  the  end 
more  clearly  than  I  can.  We  did  n't  think  the  Southern 
Confederacy  had  a  year's  life  in  it  a  year  ago.  They  have 
illustrated  the  power  of  able  and  unscrupulous  leaders,  and 
we  have  furnished  some  hints,  at  least,  of  the  weakness  of 
feeble  and  scrupulous  leaders.  I  am  in  such  a  trite  and 
moralizing  frame  of  mind  that  I  will  spare  you  any  further 
prosing. 

"  We  may  go  on  to  Staunton,  and  we  may  cross  the  gap  to 
Gordonsville.  We  can't  stay  here  much  longer,  and  I  hope 
my  next  letter  may  give  you  some  guess  at  our  future." 


10 


242  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

"  CAMP  NEAB  HARRISONBURG,  April  29,  1 862. 

"  I  believe  I  wrote  you  a  short  letter  since  our  arrival 
here.  "Written  in  a  northeast  storm,  perhaps  it  had  a  little 
of  the  gloom  of  the  sky  that  overhung  it.  Let  me  try  what 
brighter  skies  may  inspire.  Sunday  morning  last  broke  ; 
yes  !  broke,  and  the  spell —  of  weather  which  had  held  us  so 
long  yielded  at  last.  The  snows  which  we  found  on  the 
field  vanished. 

"  In  the  midst  of  our  morning  inspection  an  order  came  to 
march  at  once  on  a  reconnoissance  towards  Jackson's  position 
in  the  Swift  Run  Gap  on  the  Blue  Ridge.  We  got  off  at  about 
eleven  o'clock,  with  the  Twenty-seventh  Indiana  Regiment. 
It  was  our  duty  to  support  the  cavalry  and  artillery  under 
General  Hatch.  We  went  out  on  the  '  mud  pike '  to  Magau- 
gheysville,  or  rather  toward  that  euphonious  town.  Such  a 
road !  We  toiled  out  eleven  miles.  The  cavalry  pushed  be 
yond  Magaugheysville  and  had  a  brisk  little  skirmish,  in 
which  we  took  two  prisoners  and  lost  one.  The  Rebels  have 
the  bridge  that  crosses  the  Shenandoah  full  of  brush  and  com 
bustibles,  ready  to  burn  when  we  press  them.  It  is  reported 
that  Jackson  is  reinforced  by  a  brigade  or  more,  and  that 
he  will  make  a  stand  in  the  gap.  If  this  is  so,  perhaps  we 
may  get  a  little  fight  out  of  him.  But  I  am  still  of  the  per 
suasion  which  I  have  always  held.  Our  problem  in  this 
valley  has  always  been,  the  movement  and  subsistence  of  our 
army.  The  enemy  has  always  been  a  secondary  consider 
ation,  though  he  has  kept  up  a  vigorous  resistance. 

"  In  the  ripeness  of  time  we  must  cross  the  ridge  and  find 
ourselves  close  on  the  flank  of  that  army  that  resists 
McClellan  at  Yorktown.  This  is  certainly  the  right  way. 

What  politics  or  jealousy  or  a  divided  command  may  con 
fuse  us  into  blundering,  I  cannot  say. 

"  We  have  reduced  our  baggage,  and  I  send  home  a 
trunk.  The  hard  pan  is  what  we  come  down  to,  and  miss 
only  the  opportunity  to  drive  twice  our  force  of  Rebels  from 
any  position  they  may  take. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  243 

"  I  rejoice  in  the  capture  of  New  Orleans,  and  believe 
that  the  1st  of  June  will  show  the  Rebellion  crushed  and 
bleeding. 

"  Yesterday  I  was  busy  all  day  on  outpost  duty.  On 
Sunday  our  regiment  marched  twenty-two  miles  between 
eleven  o'clock  and  sunset :  good  work.  We  have  met  one 
misfortune  since  our  arrival  here.  A  corporal  of  Company 
H,  who  was  a  capital  man,  and  a  good  soldier,  marched  into 
our  present  camp  with  the  regiment,  was  taken  sick  the  next 
day  of  typlius  fever,  and  died  within  forty-eight  hours. 
This  morning  he  was  buried,  and  I  could  not  help  thinking 
how  little  of  the  soldier's  reward  he  would  receive,  yet  how 
much  he  deserves. 

"  We  are  all  well,  and  hoping  to  move  on  toward  Rich 
mond." 

"!N  BIVOUAC  MASSANATAN  PASS,  OPPOSITE  NEW  MARKET, 
May  6,  1862. 

"  A  word  with  you  in  the  rough  confusion  of  our  moun 
tain  bivouac. 

"  Sunday  last  I  should  have  written,  but  being  a  little  out 
of  sorts,  put  it  off.  In  the  afternoon  we  had  an  alarm,  the 
long  roll  beaten,  and  marched  toward  the  front.  The  regi 
ment  spent  the  night  by  the  roadside.  At  three,  A.  M., 
started  for  New  Market,  in  retreat.  Marched  all  day  in 
oppressive  heat  and  dust,  delayed  by  baggage-trains  and 
batteries.  Got  into  camp  at  eight,  P.  M.  I  was  busy  post 
ing  grand  guards  and  outposts  till  eleven.  At  twelve,  an 
other  alarm,  and  we  marched  again,  foot-sore,  hungry,  weary, 
in  the  dark,  over  the  mountain  pass.  You  should  have 
seen  the  sunrise  from  the  head  of  the  pass.  To-day  we  rest. 
We  found  the  alarm  a  false  one,  owing  to  the  stupidity  of 

General  of  Shields's  division.  Our  work  has  been 

awful  and  useless  utterly.  My  soul  is  aweary  —  so,  indeed, 
is  my  body. 

"  I  could  prose  you  a  long  story  of  our  experiences  ;  but 
to  what  good  ? 


244  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

"  I  am  well  now.  We  bivouac  again  to-night.  The 
scenery  is  glorious,  the  weather  fine.  I  have  two  letters 
from  you  since  I  wrote. 

"  As  to 's  secession  friend,  let  him  alone.  Colonels 

Corcoran  and  Wilcox  are  still  in  captivity  ;  so  is  Botts  and 
the  Governor  of  North  Carolina.  Smooth  no  pillows  for 
traitors. 

"  Love  to  all.  I  am  glad  to  hear  such  good  news  of  Char 
ley.  I  hope  William  is  now  lucky.  Memphis  will  fall  be 
fore  you  get  this.  Hurrah  ! 

"CAMP  NEAR  NEW  MARKET,  VIRGINIA,  May  9,  1862. 

"  After  passing  three  days  in  bivouac  on  the  other  side  of 
the  gap,  we  returned  here  last  night,  and  went  again  into 
camp 

"  Our  cavalry  made  a  brisk  and  bold  charge  the  other 
day.  They  are  coming  up  finely  under  the  new  general, 
Hatch.  They  actually  brought  in  ten  men  wounded  with 
sabre-cuts  ;  a  thing  not  before  done  in  the  war,  and  really 
a  most  healthy  indication. 

"  Our  life  in  the  woods  on  the  mountain  was  listless,  but 
pleasant  enough.  I  got  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Ticknor,  which 
I  have  answered.  I  hope  your  funds  will  all  be  saved 
against  the  wants  which  weather  or  battle  will  surely  de 
velop  before  autumn.  It  is  a  pity  that  your  fund  should 
not  do  its  utmost  good,  and  in  this  direction  that  work  can 
best  be  done. 

"  Just  now  our  own  prospects  are  not  such  as  to  give  us 
much  claim  on  home  solicitude  or  benevolence.  The  Secre 
tary  of  War  has  ordered  us  back  to  Strasburg. 

"  Shields,  now  a  major-general !  takes  his  division  across 
the  gap  to  McDowell.  General  Banks  remains  with  two 
brigades,  one  of  them  ours,  at  Strasburg.  This  is  the  pro 
gramme. 

"  With  that  pitiful  force  to  which  Banks's  '  army  corps  ' 
is  now  reduced,  and  at  that  point  fifty  miles  back  of  our 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  245 

recent  advance,  we  have  no  other  hope  or  purpose  than  pro 
tecting  Maryland  !  A  proud  sequel,  is  it  not  ? 

"  Of  course  all  this  is  a  severe  trial  to  me, — the  severest,  I 
think,  of  my  life.  But  equally,  of  course,  I  keep  a  cheerful 
spirit,  and  mean  to  do  my  hest  to  the  end.  Whether  the 
whirligig  of  time  has  any  revenges  in  our  favor  or  not  we 
must  wait  to  see. 

"  Service  is  obeying  orders,  and  we  are  in  service.  Per 
haps  we  shall  make  some  effort  to  get  into  an  active  depart 
ment  as  soon  as  things  have  taken  shape.  We  certainly 
shall  if  we  can  see  any  way  to  do  so.  It  is  rather  hard  luck 
for  the  first  regiment  recruited  for  the  war,  is  n't  it  ? 

"  We  are  having  very  bright,  warm  weather,  and  this  val 
ley  is  beautiful  under  it.  On  our  night  march  through  the 
gap,  we  had  sunrise  just  at  the  crest  of  the  mountain.  Both 
the  valleys  lay  beneath  us  in  their  morning  bath  of  sunshine, 
picturesque  with  camps  and  wheat-fields  and  villages. 

"  Yesterday  the  box  arrived ;  the  blanket  is  just  what  I 
want ;  the  stockings  went  right  on  men's  feet 

"  I  wait  patiently  for  news  from  William.  It  may  well 
be  that  his  opportunity  will  soon  come  or  has  come. 

"  It  is  a  year  since  our  camp  life  at  West  Roxbury. 
What  a  different  year  from  that  to  which  we  then  looked 
forward ! 

"  May  the  next  year  be  a  different  one  from  that  which 
now  appears  before  us. 

"  Love  to  all  at  home." 


246  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 


CHAPTER    XY. 

BATTLE  OF  WILLIAMSBURG.  —  VISIT  TO  WASHINGTON.  —  GENERAL 
BANKS'S  RETREAT.  —  TAKEN  PRISONER.  —  RETURN  TO  REGI 
MENT. 

AT  this  time  Major  D wight  received  the  news  of 
the  battle  of  Williamsburg,  in  which  his  brother 
William,  then  Colonel  of  the  First  Excelsior  Eegi- 
ment  (New  York  Seventieth)  was  repeatedly  and 
dangerously  wounded. 

When,  in  the  first  accounts,  he  read  that  Hooker's 
division,  to  which  this  regiment  belonged,  had  "  suf 
fered  severely  on  the  left,"  he  exclaimed :  "  My 
brother  William  is  either  wounded  or  killed." 

The  telegraph  soon  brought  him  confirmation  of 
the  truth  of  his  prophecy. 

He  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  his  regiment, 
and  almost  at  the  same  hour  that  his  brother  reached 
the  hospital  in  Washington  he  was  at  his  bedside. 

As  he  listened  with  eager  interest  to  the  thrilling 
account  of  the  conduct  of  the  officers  and  men  of  the 
First  Excelsior,  he  envied  the  opportunity  so  honor 
ably  improved,  and  coveted  wounds  which  were 
glorious  in  his  eyes  as  the  reward  of  bravery  and 
constancy. 

In  the  absence  of  military  exploit  or  achievement 
on  his  own  part,  he  took  delight  in  observing  that  of 
others.  At  this  time  he  wrote  exultingly  of  his 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF  WILDER   DWIGHT.  247 

brother :  "  He  behaved  like  a  calm,  bold,  constant, 
obstinate  trump." 

He  now  made  an  effort  to  obtain  for  his  regiment 
removal  to  an  active  department.  Impatient  of  ab 
sence  from  his  post,  he  soon  returned  to  the  Valley, 
where  the  opportunity  was  already  on  its  way  which 
was  to  give  to  the  regiment  a  permanent  place  in 
history. 

No  single  regiment  did  more  for  the  credit  of  our 
arms  in  General  Banks's  retreat  before  the  over 
powering  force  of  the  enemy  than  did  the  Second 
Massachusetts  Infantry.  General  Gordon,  to  whose 
brigade  it  belonged,  says,  in  his  official  report :  — 

"  Where  all  the  regiments  in  my  brigade  behaved  so  well, 
it  is  not  intended  to  reflect  in  the  least  upon  others  in  men 
tioning  the  steadiness  and  discipline  which  marked  the  ac 
tion  of  the  Second  Massachusetts,  Colonel  Andrews." 

Of  Major  D wight's  conduct  on  the  occasion  Gen 
eral  Gordon  says :  — 

"  Major  Dwight,  of  the  Second  Massachusetts,  while  gal 
lantly  bringing  up  the  rear  of  the  regiment,  was  missed 
somewhere  near  or  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  It  is  hoped 
that  this  promising  and  brave  officer,  —  so  cool  upon  the 
field,  so  efficient  everywhere,  so  much  beloved  in  his  regi 
ment,  and  whose  gallant  services  on  the  night  of  the  24th 
instant  will  never  be  forgotten  by  them,  —  may  have  met 
with  no  worse  fate  than  to  be  held  a  prisoner  of  war." 

Many  were  the  tributes  to  his  bravery  at  this  time. 
Captain  Quincy,  of  the  Second  Regiment,  now  Gen 
eral  Quincy,  wrote  of  him  :  — 

"  Our  Major  Dwight  has  won  for  himself  the  heartfelt 
admiration  of  the  regiment.  His  indomitable  pluck  and 


248  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

perfect  sang-froid  were  beautiful.  I  watched  him  on  Satur 
day  and  Sunday  with  wonder  and  delight.  Bullets  and 
death  he  utterly  despised  and  ignored.  In  short,  he  is  a 
genuine  hero." 

The  lamented  Captain  Abbott,  of  the  Second, 
wrote  :  — 

"  His  courage  and  coolness  are  worthy  of  all  praise.  He 
walked  about,  apparently  as  unconcerned  as  if  lounging  on 
Washington  Street.  His  devotion  to  the  wounded  is  sub 
lime.  He  is  my  hero  of  the  fight.  The  men  never  tire 
of  talking  of  him  and  praising  him."  f 

Captain  Cogswell,  of  the  Second  Eegiment,  now 
General  Cogswell,  in  writing  an  account  of  the  re 
treat  of  General  Banks's  division,  simply  says  :  "  Ma 
jor  D  wight  is  the  bravest  man  I  ever  saw." 

No  tribute  affected  him  so  deeply  as  that  which 
he  received  from  a  .wounded  man  of  his  regiment 
whom  he  was  endeavoring  to  cheer  by  telling  him 
how  well  he  and  his  comrades  had  done  in  the  fight. 
The  man  looked  at  him  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and 
said :  "  Ah,  Major,  I  'm  afraid  we  should  n't  have  done 
so  well  if  it  had  not  been  for  you." 

Chaplain  Quint,  of  the  Second  Regiment,  wrote  to 
the  family  of  Major  Dwight  at  this  time  as  fol 
lows  :  — 

"  I  should  not  intrude  now  into  your  anxiety,  your  grief, 
but  because  your  son  was,  let  us  say  is,  so  dear  to  us.  He 
had  won  the  universal  love  of  our  regiment.  Our  hopes 

*  See  remarks  of  Hon.  Josiah  Quincy  at  the  meeting  of  the  Suffolk  Bar, 
upon  the  occasion  of  the  death  of  Wilder  Dwight.  Appendix  III. 

t  See  also  remarks  of  Hon.  Josiah  G.  Abbott  upon  the  same  occasion.  Ap 
pendix  III. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  249 

that  Massachusetts  will  be  proud  of  the  late  history  of  the 
Second  Regiment  are  clouded  by  the  anxiety  felt  by  every 
man  as  to  the  Major's  fate.  Brought  into  constant  personal 
intercourse  with  the  men,  I  have  every  opportunity  to  know 
their  feelings.  He  was  always  so  attentive  to  the  comfort 
and  welfare  of  the  men,  was  such  a  friend  to  every  soldier, 
and  was  so  useful  to  their  needs,  that  no  man  could  replace 
him.  They  love  him. 

"  He  has  been  to  me  a  kind  friend,  in  my  peculiar  office, 
and  I  have  always  relied  greatly  on  his  influence  and  help 
in  plans  for  the  spiritual  good  of  the  men.  His  interest  in 
our  public  worship  has  been  great,  and  it  was  but  a  few 
weeks  ago  that  we  were  together  considering  measures  for 
the  special  improvement  of  the  regiment  as  to  religious  plans. 

"  I  hope  you  have  heard  that  he  fell  behind  the  column 
coming  out  of  Winchester  by  helping  and  encouraging  along 
a  wounded  soldier. 

"  You  will  know,  of  course,  how  nobly  he  commanded 
the  little  band  of  skirmishers  on  Saturday  night  last,  when 
his  small  force  he  formed  against  cavalry  and  infantry  with 
entire  success  ;  how  his  clear,  cool,  deliberate  words  of  com 
mand  inspired  the  men,  so  that  no  man  faltered,  while  in 
ten  minutes  one  company  lost  one  fourth  of  its  number." 

An  account  of  his  command  of  the  skirmishers  to 
which  Chaplain  Quint  alludes  is  thus  given  in  the 
following  extract  from  a  letter  of  an  officer  of  the 
Second  Kegiment,  dated 

"  WlLLIAMSPORT,  MARYLAND,  May  29. 

"  Hardly  were  we  out  of  town  [Newtown]  when  the  ene 
my's  cavalry  and  artillery  dashed  in  with  a  tremendous  yell 
of  triumph.  They  attacked  us  at  once.  We  fell  back  with 
out  any  hurry,  firing  all  the  time  till  we  got  to  a  little  bridge 
the  other  side  of  Cairnstown,  when  half  the  regiment  made 
a  stand,  while  the  other  half  got  their  knapsacks.  The 


250  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT. 

Rebels  here  closed  right  round  us.  They  were  so  near  that 
we  heard  every  order,  and  were  able  to  make  our  disposi 
tions  accordingly. 

"  There  was  not  a  word  spoken  in  our  regiment,  by  officer 
or  man,  above  a  whisper,  and  it  was  so  dark  that  nothing 
could  be  seen  except  by  the  flashes  of  our  muskets.  Finally 
we  heard  the  order  given  to  the  Rebel  cavalry  to  '  charge.' 
A  square  was  instantly  formed  in  the  road,  and  the  skir 
mishers  rallied  on  each  side.  The  Rebels  came  thundering 
down  the  road,  literally  making  the  ground  shake.  Not  a 
shot  was  fired  till  they  were  within  fifty  yards  of  us,  when 
Major  Dwight  gave  the  order  :  '  Rear  rank,  aim  !  fire  !  load  ! 
Front  rank,  aim  !  fire  !  charge  bayonets  ! '  But  the  bayo 
nets  were  not  needed.  Men  and  horses  were  rolled  over 
together,  breaking  the  charge,  sending  them  back  in  con 
fusion,  and  changing  the  yells  with  which  they  came  down 
on  us  into  groans  and  screams.  This  was  the  last  attack  of 
their  cavalry  that  night." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  from  General 
Quincy,  of  a  more  recent  date,  indicates  that  Major 
Dwight's  command  of  the  skirmishers  was  no  less  ap 
preciated  by  the  Eebels  than  it  was  by  his  own  regi 
ment. 

It  proves,  too,  that  he  made  no  empty  boast  when 
he  said  of  the  regiment,  some  weeks  before  it  was 
called  to  action :  "  We  miss  only  the  opportunity  to 
show  ourselves  able  to  drive  twice  our  force  of  Reb 
els  from  any  position  they  may  take  "  :  — 

"THE   SECOND   MASSACHUSETTS. 

"NEW  ORLEANS,  July  1,  1866. 
"  To  THE  EDITORS  OP  THE  BOSTON  DAILY  ADVERTISER  :  — 

"  To  the  survivors  of  the  old  regiment  who  were  present 
at  its  first '  baptism  of  fire  '  in  the  midnight  skirmish  of  Bar- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  251 

tonsville,  where,  as  rear-guard,  it  covered  Banks's  retreating 
column,  the  following  account  of  the  affair,  in  Dabney's  Life 
of  Stonewall  Jackson,  page  375,  will  be  of  interest :  — 

"  '  But  as  it  (the  column)  approached  Barton's  Mills,  five 
miles  from  Winchester,  the  enemy,  posted  on  both  sides  of 
the  road,  again  received  it  with  so  severe  a  fire  that  the  cav 
alry  advance  retired  precipitately  out  of  it,  carrying  the 
General  and  his  attendants  along  with  them,  and  riding 
down  several  cannoneers  who  had  been  brought  up  to  their 
support.  So  pertinacious  was  the  stand  of  the  Federalists 
here  that  the  Twenty-seventh,  Second,  and  Fifth  Virginia 
regiments  were  brought  up,  and  the  affair  grew  to  the  di 
mensions  of  a  night  combat  before  they  gave  way.' 

"  The  '  Federalists  '  engaged,  as  above  described,  consisted 
of  four  companies  of  the  Second  Massachusetts,  deployed 
as  skirmishers  on  either  side  of  the  pike  ;  the  rear  of  the 
battalion  being  in  column  by  platoon  in  the  road.  The 
skirmish  line  was  commanded  by  our  brave  and  lamented 
Major  Wilder  D  wight.  The  company  most  hotly  engaged, 
and  whose  losses  were  heaviest,  was  Company  I,  commanded 
by  Captain,  since  Brevet  Major-General,  Adin  B.  Under- 
w^ood.  The  regiment  was  unsupported  by  any  other  troops. 
Its  friends  cannot  but  be  satisfied  with  the  enemy's  account 
of  this,  its  first  achievement  under  fire,  —  three  Confederate 
regiments  being  brought  against  our  skirmisli  line  of  four 
companies,  and  the  affair  growing  to  the  dimensions  of  a 
night  combat  before  the  well-remembered  c  cease  firing  '  and 
4  retreat,'  at  last  rang  out  from  Major  D  wight's  bugler,  and 
was  repeated,  in  varying  cadence,  along  the  line." 

The  following  is  Major  Dwight's  account  of  the 
retreat  of  General  Banks's  division,  as  contained  in 
the  journal  which  he  kept  in  Winchester  during  the 
week  when,  reported  "  missing,"  he  was  mourned  as 
dead. 


252  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

"JOURNAL. 

"  WINCHESTER,  VIRGINIA,  Friday,  May  30,  1862, 
Braddock  Street,  at  Mr.  Earnhardt's. 

"  The  first  news  of  an  attack  on  Banks's  column  reached 
the  camp  of  the  Second  Massachusetts  Regiment  at  Stras- 
burg,  Virginia,  on  Friday  evening  after  parade  (May  23). 
The  Third  Wisconsin  Regiment  was  despatched  by  Colonel 
Gordon,  commanding  brigade,  toward  Front  Royal,  to  protect 
the  bridges.  At  eleven  o'clock  that  night  we  were  ordered 
to  pack  wagons.  After  despatching  our  train  we  lay  down 
and  spent  the  night  in  bivouac.  No  marching  orders  came. 
It  was  understood  by  us  that  many  of  the  other  trains  had 
not  yet  gone  toward  Winchester.  At  or  near  ten  o'clock, 
A.M.,  Saturday,  the  order  came  for  us  to  march.  As  wo 
passed  head-quarters  on  the  way  to  Winchester,  it  was  re 
ported  that  the  Rebel  forces  were  pushing  forward  direct 
from  Front  Royal  to  Winchester,  and  we  were  hurried  on, 
as  it  was  said,  to  meet  them  or  anticipate  them.  When  we 
drew  near  the  bridge  over  Cedar  Creek,  the  battery  was 
ordered  forward  in  haste,  and  it  was  said  that  part  of  our 
train  at  Newtown  had  been  attacked  by  cavalry.  We  pushed 
forward,  found  the  trains  halted,  and  some  evidences  of 
panic  and  disorder.  We  halted  half  an  hour  before  reach 
ing  Middletown.  Then  pushed  on  again.  The  day,  which 
had  been  rainy  and  clouded,  grew  more  clear  and  hot.  The 
march  was  through  the  trains,  and  a  rapid  push  toward 
Winchester.  Donnelly's  brigade  was  before  ours.  Between 
Middletown  and  Newtown  it  became  evident  that  our  rear 
was  being  pressed.  The  rear-guard  had  been  composed  of 
cavalry  and  artillery.  A  large  drove  of  loose  horses  over 
took  us  near  Newtown  ;  one  of  cattle  soon  came  also ;  the 
wagons,  also,  were  crowding  the  way.  Still  we  pushed  on. 
At  about  two  miles  beyond  Newtown  General  Banks  ap 
peared,  and  announced  to  Colonel  Gordon  that  our  advance 
was  in  Winchester,  and  all  quiet  there.  The  evidences  of 
panic  and  pursuit  in  the  rear  had  been  rapidly  multiplying, 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  253 

and  it  had  been  reported  that  our  train  was  cut  at  Middle- 
town  by  a  force  coming  by  the  Front  Royal  road.  The 
Twenty-seventh  Indiana  Regiment  had  been  ordered  to  re 
turn  to  the  rear  with  a  section  of  Best's  battery  at  Newtown. 
As  soon  as  General  Banks  announced  the  entry  of  our  force 
into  Winchester,  he  ordered  the  Second  Massachusetts  Regi 
ment  to  the  rear  to  protect  the  train.  The  regiment,  jaded 
by  their  march  and  fatigue,  sprang  to  the  duty.  At  Bartons- 
ville,  a  little  more  than  a  mile  this  side  of  Newtown,  we  left 
our  knapsacks,  and  pushed  on. 

"  As  we  came  near  Newtown,  evidences  of  panic  filled  the 
road,  —  abandoned  wagons,  flying  teamsters,  &c.  The  regi 
ment  formed  near  the  edge  of  the  town.  Two  companies  were 
deployed  as  skirmishers  on  each  side  of  the  road.  Two  com 
panies  were  ordered  to  support  Best's  section,  and  the  rest  of 
the  regiment  moved  into  the  town  by  the  road  by  the  flank. 
They  had  just  entered  the  town,  when  the  enemy's  artillery 
from  the  other  end  of  the  town  threw  a  few  shells  at  them 
with  skill.  The  shell  burst  directly  over  the  battalion. 
Colonel  Andrews  ordered  them  within  the  yards  on  the  right 
of  the  road.  The  skirmishers  arid  reserve  moved  on,  and 
the  rest  of  the  regiment  followed,  keeping  within  shelter  of 
buildings.  Before  entering  the  town  we  had  seen  cavalry 
on  our  right  and  left.  The  line  of  skirmishers  was  halted 
in  a  hollow  just  beyond  the  town,  and  the  reserves  and  bat 
talion  kept  within  the  town.  The  artillery  of  both  sides 
kept  up  a  rapid  fire.  It  was,  perhaps,  five,  P.  M.,  when  we 
turned  back.  We  held  the  position  till  sunset.  At  the 
edge  of  the  town,  on  a  door-step,  was  a  half-eaten  pile  of 
corn.  The  man  of  the  house  said  Ashby's  horse  was  eating 
there  when  we  came  into  town.  I  fed  my  horse  with  what 
was  left.  This  was  the  only  forage,  I  believe,  taken  from 
the  enemy.  Before  we  withdrew  from  Newtown  we  set 
fire  to  the  abandoned  wagons.  It  grew  dark  rapidly  as  we 
withdrew.  I  had  a  detail  of  two  companies,  A  and  C,  as  a 
rear-guard.  One  platoon  of  each  company  was  deployed  in 


254  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

the  fields,  on  each  side  of  the  road.  The  reserves  were 
united  within  the  road.  The  enemy  soon  followed  our  re 
treat.  As  they  came  in  sight  of  the  burning  wagons  their 
yells  and  shouts  were  demoniacal.  Expecting  an  attack  by 
their  cavalry  upon  the  rear-guard,  I  prepared  for  it.  When 
we  came  near  Bartonsville  a  halt  was  ordered,  to  pick  up 
the  knapsacks.  We  could  hear  the  yells  of  the  men  coming 
on.  Soon  the  sound  of  approaching  horses  was  heard.  The 
growing  darkness,  confused  by  the  glare  of  the  burning 
wagons,  compelled  us  to  trust  our  ears.  I  drew  the  line  of 
skirmishers  into  groups  near  the  road,  formed  the  reserve 
into  a  square,  and  directed  the  three  bodies,  so  formed,  to 
pour  their  fire  upon  the  approaching  cavalry  at  the  command 
from  me.  The  cavalry  came  on.  The  fire  was  ordered  and 
delivered.  The  cavalry  went  back. 

"  Their  advance  seemed  checked.  I  rode  back  up  the 
hill  over  which  the  cavalry  had  come,  but  could  hear  no 
sound.  It  then  became  necessary  to  draw  in  and  relieve 
the  rear-guard,  to  enable  it  to  take  its  knapsacks.  At  the 
foot  of  the  hill  on  which  we  had  been  posted  was  a  little  run 
which  the  road  crossed  over  a  small  bridge.  The  rear-guard 
was  drawn  in  across  that  run,  together  with  Company  B, 
which  had  come  out  to  their  support. 

"  Company  I  had  been  ordered  to  report  to  me  as  a  rear 
guard  ;  Colonel  Andrews  stating  that  he  thought  the  pursuit 
checked.  Company  I  came  down  near  the  run  to  wait  there 
till  the  knapsacks  should  be  taken  and  till  the  column  should 
move.  Hardly  had  they  got  there  when  I  could  hear  voices 
beyond  the  run.  It  had  been  reported  to  me  that  orders 
were  being  given  to  infantry.  I  heard  a  voice  saying, '  There 
they  are  !  there  they  are  !  in  the  road  ! '  As  a  few  shells 
had  been  thrown  at  us  when  we  were  in  position  beyond  the 
run,  I  thought  the  enemy  might  intend  some  such  compli 
ment,  and  I  directed  the  company  which  was  in  column  by 
platoon  to  break  back  against  the  roadsides.  The  doubt  was 
soon  scattered.  A  galling  and  severe  infantry  fire  opened 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  255 

on  us.  Company  I  replied  at  once,  and  with  admirable 
coolness  and  effect.  In  spite  of  their  inferior  numbers,  and 
of  the  wounded  falling  about,  they  kept  their  position  and 
maintained  their  fire.  I  sent  back  to  Colonel  Andrews  for 
support,  and  parts  of  Companies  C  and  B  in  the  clover-field 
on  the  right  of  the  road  soon  opened  a  fire  that  relieved  us 
speedily. 

"  Company  I,  however,  had  lost  eight  or  ten  killed  or 
wounded  in  this  sudden  and  vigorous  attack. 

"  We  withdrew  slowly,  the  column  having  now  got  in  mo 
tion  again.  The  enemy  pressed  us  only  a  little  way  ;  then 
all  was  quiet.  When  we  came  to  a  brick  house  our  wounded 
were  carried  into  it,  and  a  halt  was  ordered  till  ambulances, 
which  were  sent  for,  could  be  brought  back  for  them. 

"  I  posted  a  line  of  sentries  across  the  road  and  in  the 
fields,  and  posted  the  reserve  of  Company  I  within  that  line, 
and  the  regiment  was  taking  some  rest,  while  Dr.  Leland*  was 
busy  dressing  the  wounded  in  the  house.  After  about  half 
an  hour  the  sentries  reported  sounds  as  of  an  advancing  col 
umn.  Upon  going  back,  I  found  that  I  could  hear  it,  and 
so  reported  to  Colonel  Andrews.  Colonel  Andrews  ex 
pressed  an  unwillingness  to  leave  the  wounded  unless  we 
were  compelled  to  do  so,  and  ordered  me  to  return  again. 
I  did  so  ;  and  leaving  word  with  my  sentinels  to  fire  at  once 
upon  hearing  or  seeing  anything  suspicious,  I  was  on  my 
way  to  report  to  Colonel  Andrews  that  the  enemy  were  cer 
tainly  approaching,  when  I  was  stopped  by  a  fire  from  the 
direction  of  the  sentinels.  Immediately  a  sharp  and  ex 
tended  line  of  fire  opened  from  the  enemy's  skirmishers 
close  upon  us.  The  column  moved  at  once,  as  soon  as  it 
could  be  got  in  order. 

"  Our  sentinels  and  reserve  from  Company  I  stood  their 
ground  under  a  second  severe  fire.  Part  of  Companies 
B  and  C  were  rapidly  deployed,  and  we  moved  on  in  retreat. 
Part  of  Company  D,  under  Lieutenant  Abbott,  was  un- 

*  Dr.  Francis  Leland,  Surgeon  of  the  Second  Massachusetts  Infantry. 


256  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

luckily  left  behind  on  our  right,  where  they  had  been  de 
ployed  as  flankers.  For  a  moment  they  were  between  two 
fires,  but  the  fact  was  discovered  in  season  to  avoid  disaster. 
We  were  compelled,  however,  to  leave  Dr.  Leland  and  the 
wounded  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The  enemy 
pursued  us  closely  beyond  Kernstown.  Soon  after  passing 
that  village,  I  drew  in  the  skirmishers,  and  followed  the 
column  rapidly.  We  passed  our  cavalry  picket  at  the  toll- 
gate.  Between  twelve  and  one  o'clock  the  whole  regiment 
lay  down  to  a  dreary  bivouac  just  outside  of  Winchester  on 
the  left  of  the  road. 

"  I  met  Colonel  Gordon  on  the  road,  and  went  with  him 
into  town.  He  sent  out  his  Adjutant,  Lieutenant  Horton, 
to  attend  to  the  posting  of  pickets.  We  went  to  see  General 
Banks.  I  had  only  a  few  words  with  him.  I  told  him  the 
nature  of  the  pursuit,  and  intimated  the  opinion  which  I  had 
formed,  that  an  attack  would  be  made  at  daylight.  I  got 
no  orders  nor  any  intimation  of  any  plan  or  purpose  for  the 
next  day.  I  went  back  and  lay  down  by  a  small  fire  for 
about  an  hour. 

"  Soon  after  three  o'clock,  A.  M.,  Colonel  Andrews  re 
quested  me  to  go  into  town,  to  hurry  out  some  ammunition 
for  our  regiment.  I  saw  Colonel  Gordon,  but  could  get  no 
ammunition.  When  I  came  out  of  Colonel  Gordon's  room 
I  met  a  messenger  from  Colonel  Andrews,  saying  that  an 
attack  seemed  imminent,  and  there  was  no  general  officer 
on  the  field.  As  I  went  back  to  the  regiment  I  met  Gen 
erals  Williams  and  Hatch,  and  gave  them  the  message.  I 
then  went  back  to  the  regiment.  I  found  Colonel  Andrews 
and  Colonel  Ruger  together.  I  said  to  the  former  :  '  Ought 
we  not  to  take  possession  of  that  ridge  ? '  pointing  to  the 
one  on  the  right  of  the  road.  Colonel  Andrews  said,  '  I 
have  already  selected  it,  but  where  is  Colonel  Gordon  ? '  I 
replied  he  was  coming.  The  regiment  was  formed,  and 
Colonel  Gordon,  on  his  arrival,  sanctioning  the  position,  the 
regiment  moved  by  the  flank,  across  the  road,  and  up  the 
hillside. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  257 

"  We  had  just  crossed  the  road  when  a  Rebel  regiment, 
in  line  (Fifth  Virginia),  appeared  on  the  ridge,  showing 
that  they  had  anticipated  us. 

"  As  we  moved  up  the  hill  Colonel  Andrews  told  me  to 
ride  forward,  to  examine  the  position.  I  did  so.  A  fire 
from  some  sharpshooters  saluted  me,  and  I  could  see  a  bat 
tery  and  some  regiments  opposite  the  position  that  we  were 
advancing  to  occupy.  Meantime,  Cothren's  battery  opened 
on  the  Fifth  Virginia  Regiment,  and  scattered  them  out  of 
view.  The  Second  Massachusetts  moved  on  to  its  position, 
and  took  the  line  of  a  broken  stone-wall,  the  right  of  the 
regiment  resting  on  the  crest  of  the  hill.  The  rest  of  the 
regiments  of  the  brigade  formed  on  our  left  down  to  the 
pike.  The  battery  was  posted  on  a  rise  of  ground  behind 
our  regiment.  The  Second  Massachusetts  was  ordered  to 
lie  down.  Part  of  Company  D  was  deployed  on  the  right  as 
skirmishers.  There  was  a  warm  fire  of  artillery  and  mus 
ketry  on  our  position.  The  three  right  companies  kept  up 
a  brisk  fire  on  the  battery  and  infantry  opposite  ;  rising  and 
lying  down  again.  Colonel  Andrews  and  I  dismounted. 
We  could  see  one  of  the  enemy's  guns  deserted.  The  ene 
my's  pieces,  I  have  since  found  out,  belonged  to  the  Rock- 
bridge  artillery.  Our  fire  drove  them  from  their  guns,  and 
I  have  also  heard  that  their  loss  at  this  point  was  consider 
able.  Soon,  however,  their  fire  ceased,  for  the  most  part,  to 
annoy  us ;  though  their  battery  and  ours  kept  up  a  rapid 
interchange  over  our  heads,  with  more  or  less  effect  on  both 
sides. 

"  I  happened  to  notice  one  or  two  mounted  officers  of  the 
enemy  pointing  and  gesticulating  in  the  direction  of  our 
right  flank,  and  suggested  to  Colonel  Andrews  whether  they 
did  not  mean  to  send  round  a  force  to  flank  us.  He  seemed 
to  think  it  probable.  There  was  a  stone-wall  on  our  right 
and  in  front  of  our  line  about  thirty  yards  or  forty.  Colonel 
Andrews  ordered  Companies  D  and  I  to  deploy  forward  to 
that  wall  as  skirmishers  to  protect  that  flank,  and  also  to 

17 


258  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

observe  and  harass  any  movement  of  the  enemy  like  the 
one  anticipated.  At  about  this  time  a  sharp  fire  of  grape 
and  spherical  case,  as  I  suppose,  began  upon  the  wall  and 
the  field  in  rear  of  us.  I  have  since  found  out  that  the  guns 
of  the  Rockbridge  artillery  were  ordered  to  divide  their  fire 
between  this  wall  and  the  battery  to  prevent  our  pushing  a 
regiment  up  to  the  wall. 

"  I  went  forward  to  the  wall,  dropping  occasionally,  as 
I  saw  the  flash  of  the  enemy's  guns,  to  avoid  their  somewhat 
importunate  projectiles.  It  appeared  that  the  expected  move 
ment  had  commenced.  There  was  one  piece  of  low  ground 
where  the  enemy's  flank  was  exposed  in  their  movement. 
They  then  passed  behind  a  wooded  knoll  which  covered 
them.  Colonel  Andrews  ordered  me  to  go  to  Colonel  Gor 
don  to  report  the  movement.  I  did  so,  finding  him  in  a 
hollow  in  rear  of  the  centre  of  the  brigade.  He  directed  me 
to  return,  and  ascertain  in  what  force  the  enemy  were  mov 
ing.  I  went  out  to  the  wall,  and  ascertained  that  two  or 
more  regiments  had  already  passed.  Our  skirmishers  were 
exposed  to  a  sharp  fire  at  the  wall.  I  reported  the  fact  of 
the  number  of  the  enemy  moving  on  our  right  to  Colonel 
Gordon.  He  told  me  to  tell  Colonel  Andrews  to  throw 
back  the  right  of  the  regiment,  and  he  would  send  up  a 
force  to  support  him.  He  also  directed  me  to  see  that  some 
of  the  artillery  moved  forward  and  to  the  right  to  play  upon 
the  enemy  at  this  point ;  I  was  busy  attending  to  these  mat 
ters. 

"  One  of  Cothren's  pieces  was  brought  forward,  our  skir 
mishers  were  withdrawn  from  the  wall,  the  Twenty-seventh 
Indiana  and  Twenty-ninth  Pennsylvania  moved  up  to  our 
right.  I  had  dismounted  to  go  down  toward  the  wall,  and 
was  directing  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  piece  where  his 
fire  could  be  directed  with  most  effect,  when  I  heard  a  cry. 
I  turned  and  saw  that  the  Twenty-seventh  Indiana,  which 
had  just  opened  its  fire,  had  broken  and  was  running.  I  saw 
that  the  enemy  were  pouring  up  the  hillside  and  round  on 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  259 

our  right.  .1  saw,  also,  that  the  Twenty-ninth  Pennsylvania 
had  broken  and  was  following  the  Twenty-seventh  Indiana. 
The  enemy  were  coming  on  at  a  run,  with  yells,  but  not  in 
any  regular  order.  The  officer  commanding  the  piece  said 
to  me,  '  What  shall  I  do  ?  I  have  got  no  support  for  my 
gun.'  '  Blaze  away  at  'em,'  said  I.  '  I  shall  lose  my  gun,' 
said  he.  '  Well,'  said  I,  '  you  must  do  as  you  choose.'  I 
turned  and  found  that  our  regiment  was  withdrawing.  I 
could  not  see  my  horse  anywhere,  and  so  I  followed  on  foot. 
As  we  passed  off  the  hill  the  enemy  rose  on  its  crest.  Their 
cracking  and  whistling  fire  followed  us  closely.  I  recollected 
an  unmailcd  letter  in  my  pocket,  and  preferring  to  have  it 
unread,  rather  than  read  by  hostile  eyes,  I  tore  it  up  as  we 
went  down  the  hill.  A  few  of  our  men  would  turn  and  fire 
up  the  hill,  reloading  as  they  went  on.  I  delayed  a  little  to 
applaud  their  spunk. 

"  But  the  flight  before  me  and  the  flight  behind  me  are 
not  reminiscences  on  which  I  like  to  dwell. 

"  We  passed  down  into  the  edge  of  the  town.  As  I  came 
along,  a  young  soldier  of  Company  C  was  wounded  in  the 
leg.  I  gave  him  my  arm,  but,  finding  that  he  was  too  much 
injured  to  go  on,  advised  him  to  get  into  a  house,  and  went 
on.  The  regiment  was  forming  in  line  when  I  reached  it. 
Before  I  had  time  to  go  to  the  left,  where  Colonel  Andrews 
was,  the  regiment  moved  off  again,  and  I  followed.  It  now 
became  a  run.  A  fire  began  to  assail  us  from  the  cross 
streets  as  well  as  from  the  rear.  I  turned  in  at  the  Union 
Hotel  Hospital  to  get  on  to  the  next  street,  but  found  the 
same  fire  there.  Just  as  I  was  near  the  edge  of  the  town 
one  of  our  soldiers  called  out  to  me,  '  Major,  I  'm  shot.'  I 
turned  to  him,  and  took  him  along  a  few  steps,  and  then 
took  him  into  a  house.  I  told  the  people  they  must  take 
care  of  him,  and  laid  him  down  on  a  bed,  and  opened  his 
shirt.  I  then  turned  to  go  out,  but  the  butternut  soldiery 
were  all  around  the  house,  and  I  quietly  sat  down.  '  Under 
which  king,'  &c.  A  soldier  soon  came  in  and  took  me 


260  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

prisoner.  I  made  friendly  acquaintance  with  him.  He 
went  with  me  for  a  surgeon  for  my  wounded  soldier,  and 
also  to  pick  up  the  overcoat  which  I  had  thrown  off  in  the 
heat.  I  soon  went  down  with  my  captor  to  the  Taylor 
House,  where  I  found  Colonel  Bradley  Johnson,  First  Mary 
land  Regiment,  who  took  charge  of  me. 

"  As  I  came  back  through  the  streets  secession  flags  were 
flying  from  many  of  the  houses ;  the  town  was  full  of  soldiers 
and  rejoicing.  I  found  many  of  our  soldiers  prisoners  in 
the  court-house  yard.  I  was  busy  about  the  wounded,  and 
was  allowed  to  go  out  to  get  a  dinner. 

"  In  the  afternoon  I  went  upon  the  field  with  some  of  the 
prisoners  of  our  regiment  and  buried  our  dead  :  two  of  our 
own  regiment  and  two  from  some  other.  They  were  buried 
under  the  cedar  at  the  right  of  our  line  on  the  hill,  and  I 
read  a  portion  of  Scripture  over  their  open  grave.* 

"  In  the  evening  I  went  up  to  the  Academy  Hospital,  where 
I  found  Major  Wheat  of  Wheat's  battalion,  who  took  care 
of  me,  and  with  whom  I  passed  the  night,  and  who  treated 
me  with  the  utmost  kindness  and  courtesy. 

"  The  next  morning  (Monday,  May  26)  Major  Wheat 
took  me,  together  with  Colonel  Murphy,  to  breakfast  at  the 
Taylor  House.  There  I  saw  Pendleton,  of  General 

*  Four  years  later,  almost  on  the  very  anniversary  of  this  burial,  friends  of 
Major  Dwight  sought  and  found  the  consecrated  spot.  They  were  guided  thither 
by  a  man  from  the  immediate  vicinity,  who,  when  asked  if  he  remembered,  on 
Sunday  afternoon,  after  General  Banks's  retreat  in  May,  1862,  seeing  a  Union  offi 
cer  with  some  of  his  men,  under  a  Rebel  guard,  come  out  upon  the  hill  yonder  to 
bury  four  Union  soldiers,  replied,  "  I  should  think  I  ought  to  remember  it ;  I 
helped  to  dig  the  graves."  The  cedar  had  been  recently  cut  down,  but  the  stump 
remained,  and  beside  it  were  the  four  graves.  The  bodies  had  only  the  week  before 
been  removed  to  a  soldiers'  cemetery  in  Winchester,  and  those  who  visited  the 
spot  stood,  as  Major  Dwight  had  stood,  over  the  open  graves.  The  form  of  the 
bodies  was  distinctly  visible,  and  outside  the  graves  were  portions  of  the  blankets 
in  which  they  were  wrapped,  the  visor  of  one  of  their  caps,  and  other  relics  of 
them.  Nearby  was  the  "broken  stone-wall,"  behind  which  the  two  of  the 
buried  men  belonging  to  the  Second  Massachusetts  had  perished,  and  within 
sight  were  all  the  most  interesting  points  connected  with  the  battle  and  the 
retreat. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  261 

Jackson's  staff,  and  through  him  sent  in  a  request  to  Gen 
eral  Jackson.  First,  to  see  him  ;  this  was  refused.  Second, 
to  send  information,  by  a  flag,  to  our  friends  of  our  number 
of  prisoners,  wounded,  and  dead  ;  this  was  refused,  on  the 
ground  that  General  Banks,  after  the  battle  of  Kernstown, 
took  no  such  step  ;  and,  as  the  aid  said,  '  If  it  had  not  been 
for  our  private  sources  of  information  we  could  have  known 
nothing  of  our  wounded  and  prisoners.'  Third,  for  a  parole 
for  our  soldiers  who  were  suffering  from  want  of  food  ;  this 
was  also  refused  on  similar  ground  to  the  former.  Fourth, 
then  for  a  parole  for  myself,  to  enable  me  to  board  at  some 
private  house  in  Winchester  ;  this  was  granted. 

"  I  went  to  the  house  of  Mr.  George  Earnhardt,  on  Brad- 
dock  Street,  where  I  had  stopped  when  we  were  in  Win 
chester  before. 

"  I  was  at  the  Union  Hotel  Hospital  on  Tuesday  morning, 
May  27,  where  our  wounded  were  being  collected,  when  I 
was  delighted  to  see  Colonel  Kenly,  of  the  First  Maryland, 
from  Front  Royal,  wounded  with  a  sabre-cut  on  the  head, 
but  not  dead,  as  reported.  The  Colonel  came  with  me  to 
Mr.  Earnhardt's  house,  and  has  been  with  me  ever  since. 

"  On  Wednesday,  May  28,  I  attended  the  funeral  of  Ser 
geant  Williams,  Company  F,  who  died  on  Tuesday  morning 
soon  after  I  left  him.  General  Jackson  gave  permission  to 
eight  of  the  Second  Massachusetts  prisoners  to  go  out  with 
me  as  an  escort  for  the  burial  of  their  companion. 

"  The  number  of  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners  of  the 
Second  Massachusetts  may  be  approximately  stated  thus : 
killed,  eight ;  wounded,  thirty  ;  prisoners,  ninety. 

"  Our  men  have  suffered  from  want  of  food,  but  only  be 
cause  the  Confederates  had  it  not  to  give  them. 

"  The  wounded  are  doing  well,  and  are  in  fine  spirits. 
Company  I,  especially,  is  in  fine  spirits. 

"  It  should  not  be  omitted  in  the  record  of  the  scenes  of 
Sunday,  that,  in  the  retreat  through  the  town,  citizens  fired 
from  the  houses  upon  our  flying  and  straggling  soldiers. 


262  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    DWIGHT. 

"  Within  an  hour  after  the  Rebel  occupation  of  the  town, 
Confederate  flags  were  flying  from  windows,  the  women 
appeared  gayly  dressed  on  the  streets,  with  Confederate 
colors,  and  wearing  also  little  flags.  The  houses  were  vocal 
with  '  Maryland  !  my  Maryland  !  '  and  '  The  Bonnie  Blue 
Flag !  ' 

"  There  is  little  doubt,  however,  that  the  Rebel  loss  far  ex 
ceeded  ours.  The  hospitals  are  crowded  with  their  wounded. 
They  lost,  also,  many  officers.  Their  wounded  are  much 
more  severely  wounded  than  ours.  I  have  heard  that  the 
official  reports  show  the  loss  on  Sunday  to  be  ninety-six 
killed  and  one  hundred  and  ninety-two  wounded. 

"  I  got,  from  conversations  with  various  officers  and  sol 
diers,  certain  interesting  facts  connected  with  the  pursuit 
and  retreat.  I  inquired  about  the  charge  of  cavalry  near 
Bartonsville.  '  Who  was  it  ambuscaded  us  there  ? '  was 
their  inquiry.  And  it  seemed,  from  further  conversation, 
that  it  was  a  serious  interruption  of  their  advance,  and  a 
cause  of  loss  to  them.  It  led  them  to  bring  forward  their 
infantry,  which  gave  us  a  fortunate  delay  to  get  our  knap 
sacks.  At  General  Jackson's  head-quarters  I  saw  the  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  of  the  Fifth  or  Second  Virginia  Regiment.  He 
asked,  with  interest,  who  it  was  that  was  at  the  run  near  Bar 
tonsville.  I  told  him  I  had  that  honor.  He  said  that  lie  had 
three  companies  deployed  there  of  his  regiment,  and  he 
added  that  he  did  not  care  to  fight  us  again  in  the  dark. 
Privates  of  the  Fifth  and  Second  Virginia  reported  that 
Jackson  told  them  they  should  be  in  Winchester  on  Satur 
day  night.  The  Fifth  and  Second  are  from  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Winchester,  and  were  coming  home.  Some  unex 
plained  cause  led  Jackson  to  hold  them  back  at  Newtown, 
otherwise  they  would  have  attacked  us  there. 

"  In  the  battle  on  Sunday  morning,  it  was  Taylor's  Lou 
isiana  brigade  that  went  round  to  our  right.  Wheat's  bat 
talion  was  a  part  of  that  command,  and  he  told  me  about 
the  movement.  Jackson  had  a  very  large  force,  eight  or  ten 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  263 

thousand  men,  moving  on  the  pike.  On  our  left  was  a  part 
of  Swell's  force,  which  engaged  the  First  Brigade.  One  of 
their  regiments  (a  North  Carolina  regiment)  suffered  se 
verely  from  the  fire  of  the  Fifth  Connecticut ;  but  their 
force  swept  into  the  town  even  before  the  Louisiana  brigade 
turned  our  right. 

Jackson's  forces  were  so  jaded  and  worn  down  that  they 
could  not  keep  up  the  pursuit.  The  infantry  was  halted 
about  four  miles  from  town.  The  cavalry  continued  the 
pursuit.  The  colonels  of  the  infantry  regiments  kept  send 
ing  word  to  Jackson  that  their  men  could  not  keep  on. 
Jackson  had  been  marching  his  men  without  baggage,  al 
most  without  food,  from  Franklin,  where  he  had  engaged 
Milroy.  He  crossed  the  Massanattan  Gap  at  New  Market, 
kept  up  the  Valley  at  Front  Royal.  The  number  of  his 
forces  must  have  been  between  twenty  and  thirty  thousand. 
It  consisted  of  E well's  and  Johnson's  (Edward)  and  his  own 
command.  They  pushed  rapidly  on,  and  were  promised  that 
they  should  go  into  Maryland  ! 

"  The  young  soldier  who  took  possession  of  me  was  011 
foot,  but  he  told  me  he  belonged  to  the  Second  Virginia 
Cavalry.  '  Where  is  your  horse  ? '  said  I.  6  He  was  shot 
last  night  when  we  were  ambuscaded,'  was  the  reply.  Then 
I  informed  him  that  we  shot  him. 

"  To-night  (Friday  evening,  May  30)  there  is  every  evi 
dence  of  alarm  and  retreat  on  the  part  of  our  captors.  We 
are  expecting  every  kind  of  good  news,  and  hoping  that 
they  will  be  too  late  to  carry  us  off  on  their  retreat. 

"  To-day  (Saturday,  P.  M.,  May  31)  they  have  loaded  all 
their  wounded  into  wagons  for  transportation  in  their  re 
treat. 

"  Colonel  Kenly  and  I  have  been  paroled  this  afternoon. 
Colonel  Kenly's  wound  in  the  head  improves  daily.  Most 
of  the  prisoners,  officers  and  men,  marched  off  this  Saturday 
morning. 

"  I  have  furnished  bread   and   some  vegetables   to   our 


264  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

friends  at  the  court-house  every  morning.  Now  that  they 
have  gone,  I  fear  that  they  will  suffer,  perhaps  for  want  of 
food. 

"  Lieutenant-Colonel  Cunningham,  Twenty-first  Virginia 
Volunteers,  who  has  just  taken  my  parole,  tells  me  that  his 
regiment  was  on  the  hill  opposite  our  position. 

"  '  Your  battery  was  splendidly  served,'  said  he  ;  c  and 
your  line  of  sharpshooters  behind  the  stone  wall  on  your 
right  picked  off  every  officer  of  our  regiment  who  showed 
himself.  Seven  or  eight  of  our  officers  were  wounded  by 
them.  We  fired  spherical  case  over  the  wall  at  them,  and, 
at  last,  round  shot  at  the  wall  from  the  Rockbridge  ar 
tillery.' 

"Saturday  evening,  May  31.  —  The  streets  are  quiet  to 
night.  We  await  events. 

"  The  parole  under  which  I  have  been  quietly  living  at  Mr. 
Earnhardt's  since  Monday  involved  only  this  restraint :  con 
finement  to  the  corporate  limits  of  Winchester,  and  the  duty 
of  reporting  every  morning  at  ten  o'clock  at  the  office  of 
the  Provost  Marshal.  We  have  fed  on  rumors,  speculations, 
fears,  hopes,  falsehoods,  and  sensations,  but  have  felt  none 
of  the  constraints  of  captivity.  The  parole  which  I  have 
given  to-day  is,  not  to  serve  till  exchanged,  and  I  may  '  go 
at  large.' 

"  Mr.  Earnhardt,  a  big  Dutchman,  who  has  lived  over 
seventy  years,  as  he  says,  'just  for  good  eating,'  returned 
from  market  Wednesday  morning.  'No  market,'  says  he. 
1  Butter  forty  cents,  eggs  twenty-five,  lamb  twenty ;  and 
all  because  the  Confederates  is  here.  I  could  ha'  sot  down 
on  the  market-steps  and  ha'  cried,  as  sure  as  you  sit  there 
in  that  there  cheer.''  To-night  his  nervousness  has  reached 
that  point  that  he  has  gone  to  bed  '  a'most  sick  and  down 
hearted.'  He  is  a  Union  man.  '  I  was  born  a  Union  man, 
I  have  always  been  a  Union  man,  and  a  Union  man  I  '11  die, 
and  the  Devil  can't  make  nothing  else  of  me.' 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  265 

"  Sunday  noon,  12  M.,  June  1.  — We  have  been  listening  two 
hours  to  the  sound  of  cannon  in  the  direction  of  Strasburg  or 
Front  Royal.  A  report  comes  in,  that  Milroy  camped  at  War- 
densville  Friday  night.  Another  now  comes,  that  Shields  and 
Milroy  are  between  Middletown  and  Newtown,  and  Gustavus 
Smith  is  in  their  rear.  Quien  sabe  ?  What  a  week  of  rumor  it 
has  been !  First  Ewell  was  at  Bunker's  Hill  to  cut  off  Banks ; 
then  our  troops  had  crossed  the  river ;  Wheat  was  in  Hagers- 
town ;  the  bridge  at  Harper's  Ferry  was  burned ;  then  Cooper 
and  Dix  were  in  Charlestown  with  large  force  ;  then  Shields 
was  at  Front  Royal ;  then  Richmond  was  taken  ;  then  we  were 
repulsed  ;  then  Banks  was  within  four  miles  of  town  ;  then 
Fremont  was  in  their  rear,  <fec.,  &c.,  &c.  We  speculate, 
discuss,  study  the  map,  <fec.  This  morning  a  scout  has  been 
sent  out  towards  Martinsburg,  to  General  Banks,  to  say  that 
nothing  but  a  thin  veil  of  Stewart's  cavalry  covers  this  town. 
We  wait  the  '  careful '  advance  of  some  Federal  flag  from 
somewhither. 

"  Sunday  evening.  —  A  thunder-storm  is  sharply  rattling 
over  us.  Hope  is  still  deferred.  The  sound  of  cannon 
hushed  at  about  noon.  Rumor  says,  Milroy  has  been  driven 
back,  and  Jackson  is  pushing  beyond  Strasburg.  It  adds, 
that  he  orders  hospitals  to  be  prepared  for  his  wounded 
here.  No  news  from  our  front.  A  foolish  doctor  from 
the  hospital  tried  to  fire  up  the  engine  to  go  to  Charles- 
town,  but  was  prevented  by  the  citizens,  with  whom  he 
has  had  some  altercation.  A  guard  is  now  placed  over 
the  hospital  again.  We  are  not '  out  of  the  woods,'  and 
had  better  not  halloo  yet,  though  we  need  not  be  scared 
by  owls  !  Would  that  Banks  or  day  after  to-morrow  were 
here ! 

"  Monday  morning,  June  2.  —  No  news.  We  are  en 
deavoring  to  get  a  wagon  to  go  to  Martinsburg,  and,  if  suc 
cessful,  will  be  off  at  once  for  '  our  lines.' ' 


266  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT. 

"  WILLIAMSPORT,  MARYLAND,  Monday  Evening, 
June  2,  1862.     At  last. 

"  Soon  after  my  last  words,  Mr.  Earnhardt,  with  corpulent 
and  puffy  energy,  came  up  stairs.  '  Well,  will  you  go  this 
morning  ?  '  '  Yes.'  He  had  previously  told  me,  when  I 
asked  him  about  a  wagon  for  Martinsburg,  c  0,  it  worrits  me, 
it  worrits  me  ! '  Now  he  said,  4 1  've  got  a  wagon  for  ye, 
yes  I  have,  already  ! '  Sure  enough,  a  contraband  and  his 
cart  were  at  our  door  in  half  an  hour.  Dr.  Stone  f  and  I 
started  at  once.  Colonel  Kenly  bade  me  good  by  and  God 
speed. 

"  Now  for  impudence  and  liberty !  On  we  rode.  Four 
miles,  and  then  came  the  halt  that  we  dreaded.  Two 
mounted  citizens  pragmatically  inspected  our  paroles,  and  at 
last  let  iis  go.  Then  two  cavalrymen,  whom  we  dissuaded. 
Then  we  were  shouted  at  to  halt !  Two  mounted  men,  with 
bowie-knife,  revolver,  carbine,  and  sabre,  said,  '  You  must 
turn  back.'  Our  hearts  sank,  but  we  took  out  our  papers, 
reasoned,  persuaded,  and,  as  Providence  would  guide  it,  led 
them  to  respect  our  paroles,  and  let  us  free.  They  said, 
'  We  will  go  back  to  town  and  ask  again.'  On  we  went,  and, 
with  only  another  halt,  but  with  every  nervousness  of  anx 
iety,  we  got  to  Bunker's  Hill.  There  the  harness  broke, 
and  again  we  looked  to  the  rear,  but  on  we  went  again. 
<  What  is  that  ? '  '  Our  cavalry  ?  '  '  It  must  be ' ;  and  sure 
enough  down  they  charged  upon  us,  and  we  were,  in  an 
abrupt  transition,  at  once  within  the  Union  lines.  I  cannot 
describe  our  thankfulness  and  heart-swell. 

*  After  Major  D  wight  left  Winchester,  some  of  Mr.  Earnhardt's  neighbors, 
who  were  Rebels,  said  to  him  :  ".You  '11  have  to  suffer  yet  for  keeping  your 
Major  so  long,  and  then  helping  him  away."  "  I  told  them,"  said  the  brave 
old  man,  "  that  they  couldn't  rob  me  of  much  if  they  took  my  life,  for  I  was 
'most  eighty  year  old." 

t  Dr.  Lincoln  Ripley  Stone,  then  Assistant- Surgeon  of  the  Second  Massa 
chusetts  Infantry,  who  would  not  abandon  the  hospital  in  his  charge  at  Win 
chester,  was  a  prisoner.  He  was  paroled  ;  the  parole  to  be  a  free  release,  if  at 
Washington  he  could  secure  an  agreement  that  surgeons  should  not  be  liable 
to  capture  ;  which  was  accomplished. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT.  267 

"  We  reached  Martinsburg.  Then  our  contraband  and 
colored  driver,  entering  into  the  spirit  of  our  pursuit,  agreed 
to  put  us  through  to  Williamsport.  We  crossed  the  river, 
met  Brown's  *  wagon.  Brown's  ready  grin  and  constant 
delight  prepared  me  a  little  for  the  enthusiasm  of  the  regi 
ment.  I  canno.t  describe  their  welcome.  God  knows,  I 
should  be  proud  to  deserve  it.  I  have  never  known  greater 
happiness  or  thankfulness  than  to-night.  Good  by,  my  dear 
mother.  I  go  to  Washington  to-morrow.  I  will  come  home 
when  I  can,  and  tell  you  all." 

He  could  not  describe  the  welcome  of  the  regi 
ment.  Another,  an  eyewitness,  has  attempted  to  do 
so.  In  order  to  appreciate  it?  one  should  understand 
the  state  of  mind  of  the  regiment  concerning  him 
during  the  previous  week. 

The  first  account  of  him  after  he  was  missed  came 
from  one  of  their  number,  who  affirmed  that  he  had 
seen  him,  during  the  retreat,  in  the  streets  of  Win 
chester,  on  foot,  surrounded  by  Rebel  cavalry,  with 
his  sword  raised.  To  the  excited  imagination  of  the 
witness,  it  seemed  that  the  Rebels  succeeded  in  tak 
ing  his  life  on  the  spot.  This  account  was  received 
without  question  at  first ;  and,  although  reliable  men 
afterwards  testified  to  having  seen  him  at  a  later 
hour  uninjured,  yet  as  day  after  day  passed  without 
any  tidings  of  him,  the  first  impression  was  not  re 
moved,  and  their  feeling  was,  that  he  was  among  the 
killed. 

"  It  was  in  the  dusk  of  Monday  evening,  June  2,  just 
after  parade,  while  officers  and  men  were  in  or  about  their 
tents,  many  talking  of  the  Major  and  his  probable  fate,  that 
a  stir  was  perceived  among  the  officers.  The  lamented 

*  George  H.  Brown,  Regimental  Wagoner. 


268  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

Captain  Gary  was  heard  to  exclaim,  i  Good  heavens,  the 
Major ! '  as  he  rushed  forward.  Then  the  Major  was  seen 
running,  on  foot,  towards  the  regiment.  The  officers  ran 
to  meet  him.  More  than  one  lifted  him  in  his  arms.  The 
men  ran  from  their  tents  towards  the  limits  of  the  camp. 
They  could  not  be  restrained :  they  broke  camp,  and  poured 
down  upon  the  Major  with  the  wildest  enthusiasm." 

At  this  time  our  informant  left  the  scene  to  tele 
graph  to  his  family  the  news  of  his  safety. 

"  On  my  return  to  camp,"  he  ,says,  "  the  scene  of  noisy 
excitement  was  changed  for  one  of  profound  calm.  The 
regiment  was  drawn  up  around  the  Major,  who  was  reading 
to  them  from  a  paper  which  he  held  in  his  hand.  Not  a 
face  there  but  was  wet  with  tears.  He  gave  them  the 
names  of  those  of  their  comrades  who  were  prisoners  in  Win 
chester.  He  told  them  who  were  wounded,  and  the  nature 
of  their  wounds.  He  told  them  of  their  dead,  and  of  the 
burials,  upon  which  even  the  Rebels  of  Winchester  had 
looked  with  respect.  Then  he  said,  '  And  now  do  you  want 
to  know  what  the  Rebels  think  of  the  Massachusetts  Second  ? 
"  Who  was  it  ambuscaded  us  near  Bartonsville  ?  "  asked 
a  cavalry  officer  of  me.  I  replied,  "  That  was  the  Massa 
chusetts  Second."  An  officer  of  Rebel  infantry  asked  me 
who  it  was  that  was  at  the  run  near  Bartonsville.  "  That 
was  the  Massachusetts  Second,"  said  I.  "  Whose,"  asked 
another  officer,  "  was  the  battery  so  splendidly  served,  and 
the  line  of  sharpshooters  behind  the  stone-wall  who  picked 
off  every  officer  of  ours  who  showed  himself  ?  "  "  That  was 
the  Massachusetts  Second,"  said  I.  On  the  whole,  the  Reb 
els  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  had  been  fighting  the 
Massachusetts  Second,  and  that  they  did  not  care  to  do  it 
again  in  the  dark.' ' 

The  next  day  he  wrote  from  Washington  :  — 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  269 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  I  send  you  my  journal.  You  will  see 
by  it  that  I  became  a  prisoner  by  carelessness,  mixed,  per 
haps,  with  good-nature.  D is  with  me.  I  stay  here  to 

see  about  my  exchange,  <fec.  I  am  sorry  you  had  so  much 
anxiety  for  me,  but  thankful  to  be  able  to  relieve  it.  Love 
to  all.  My  reception  by  the  regiment  is  reward  enough.  I 
must  get  back  to  them." 

Two  days  later  he  telegraphed  from  Washington 
as  follows  :  — 

"  Have  order  for  exchange  with  Major  Davidson  at  Fort 
Warren.  Shall  come  home  at  once  and  arrange  it." 


270  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 


CHAPTER    XYI. 

RETURN  HOME.  —  PROMOTION.  —  FORTRESS  MONROE.  —  REJOINS 
REGIMENT.  —  LETTERS  FROM  CAMP  NEAR  CULPEPER.  —  BATTLE 
OF  CEDAR  MOUNTAIN.  —  LETTERS  FROM  CAMPS  NEAR  TENALLY- 
TOWN  AND  ROCKVILLE. 

AFTER  having,  as  he  supposed,  successfully  ac 
complished,  in  Washington,  an  early  exchange, 
Major  Dwight  hastened  home,  where  he  arrived  at 
midnight  of  Friday,  June  5.* 

That  home  "  received  its  dead,  restored  to  life 
again."  Must  he  go  forth  a  second  time  to  danger 
and  to  death  ?  Patriotism  faded  under  the  tempta 
tion  to  hold  him  fast. 

On  the  evening  which  followed  his  return  he  was 
entreated  to  consider  the  possibility  of  his  resigning 
from  the  army.  He  had  served  there  faithfully  for 
the  past  fourteen  months,  he  had  helped  to  create  one 
of  the  best  regiments  in  the  service,  he  had  at  last 
enjoyed  the  long-delayed  opportunity  in  the  field, 
and  had  improved  it  honorably ;  could  he  not  now 
feel  that  he  had  done  his  part  in  the  war  ?  Could  he 
not  now,  in  conscience  and  in  honor,  return  to  civil 
life,  where  a  career  of  usefulness  was  open  to  him, 
and  to  the  home  where  his  presence  was  so  much 
needed  ?  Every  argument  was  urged  which  might 
possibly  lead  him  to  regard  this  as  the  path  of  duty. 
He  listened  patiently  and  in  silence  to  all  that  was 

*  See  Appendix  I. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  271 

said.     When  the  last  word  was  spoken,  he  calmly, 
and  in  gentlest  tones,  replied  :  — 

u  The  last  year  has  been  the  richest  of  my  life.  For  the 
first  time  in  my  life,  I  have  been  sure,  every  day,  that  I  was 
doing  good.  I  have  worked  hard  in  the  profession  of  the 
law,  and  gained  cases  for  people,  and  they  have  been  very 
grateful  to  me,  but  I  never  knew  with  certainty  whether  I 
had  done  them  good  or  not.  Now  I  know,  every  day  I  live, 
that  I  do  good  to  those  poor  fellows  in  our  regiment,  and  I 
shall  not  give  it  up.  I  would  not  if  I  could,  and  I  could  not 
if  I  would,  with  honor. 

"  Then,  as  to  my  life,  my  experience  at  Winchester  taught 
me  that  is  God's  care,  not  mine.  I  took  no  care  of  it  then 
myself.  I  was  all  the  time  in  front  of  the  line  ;  I  went  for 
ward  into  the  most  exposed  positions  possible.  I  saw  a 
dozen  men  take  aim  at  me.  They  did  not  hit  me.  I  was 
as  safe  there  as  I  should  have  been  at  home.  And  I  shall 
be  so  again,  till  God's  time  comes  to  take  my  life.  When 
that  time  comes,  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  give  it  up." 

He  ceased  speaking.  Personal  selfishness  was  re 
buked.  He  was  never  again  asked  to  reconsider  the 
purpose  to  which  he  had  dedicated  himself. 

Much  of  his  first  day  at  home  was  given  to  a  visit 
to  Fort  Warren,  whence  he  returned  buoyant  with 
the  hope  of  being  soon  exchanged  for  Major  Davidson, 
who,  in  accordance  with  the  arrangement  made  by 
Major  Dwight  at  Washington,  left  the  next  day  for 
Richmond  with  the  expectation  of  speedily  accom 
plishing  that  object. 

Some  days  later  he  wrote  to  his  brother  Howard 
as  follows :  — 

"  DEAR  CAPTAIN,  —  How  are  you  ?    I  'm  prisoner  of  war. 


272  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D  WIGHT. 

[t  seems  to  run  in  the  family.*  I  hope  you  won't  have  it. 
[  wish  that  you  may  find  a  speedy  end  of  your  service  in  the 
West.  I  have  had  a  very  pleasant  week  at  home,  but  am 
rery  impatient  to  be  back  to  the  regiment." 

He  was  indeed  an  impatient  "prisoner  of  war." 
On  being  reproached  for  so  reluctantly  yielding  to 
the  necessity  of  remaining  at  home,  he  said  :  — 

"  You  do  not  doubt,  do  you  ?  that  this  is  all  very  pleas 
ant,  —  being  here,  having  an  easy  time,  amusing  myself,  — 
it  is  all  very  pleasant ;  but  it  is  not  the  life  for  me." 

After  two  weeks,  brightened  by  the  kind  attentions 
of  friends,  in  the  course  of  which  he  received  his  pro 
motion  as  lieutenant-colonel  of  his  regiment,  he  pre 
pared,  on  the  evening  of  June  22,  to  leave  home  the 
next  day  for  Fortress  Monroe,  where  he  believed  he 
should  find  his  exchange  accomplished.  In  the  course 
of  his  preparations  he  said,  incidentally,  that  he  did 
not  expect  to  live  to  come  back  again,  adding,  "  And 
I  do  not  much  care  whether  I  do  or  not.  What  1  do 
care  for,"  said  he,  and  the  earnestness  and  vigor  of 
his  manner  as  he  spoke  will  never  be  forgotten,  — 
"  what  I  do  care  for  is  to  have  an  opportunity  to  find 
a  field,  and  to  improve  it  honorably." 

The  next  day,  as  he  left  home,  his  parting  words 
were  :  "  Mother,  you  believe  in  God ;  that 's  the  best 
advice  I  can  give  you." 

There  was  nothing  new  or  strange  in  receiving  this 
counsel  from  his  lips.  Even  from  boyhood  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  express,  under  circumstances 

*  Colonel  William  Dwight,  Jr.  was  taken  prisoner  after  the  battle  of  Wil- 
liamsburg. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  273 

calculated  to  call  it  forth,  his  trust  in  the  overruling 
providence  of  God,  and  his  sense  of  the  duty  of 
constantly  and  cheerfully  recognizing  it.  Yet,  "  his 
faith,"  to  borrow  language  which  has  been  otherwise 
applied, — "his  faith  transpired  not  in  outward  profes 
sions,  but  in  his  actions ;  in  the  uprightness,  the 
moral  elevation  of  soul  and  spirit  which  sent  him 
straight  forward,  without  turning  to  the  right  hand 
or  the  left.  His  faith,  in  the  literal  sense  of  the 
word,  is  known  to  us  only  through  his  works." 

Judge  Gray  showed  his  appreciation  of  it  when, 
after  his  death,  he  wrote  :  — 

"  I  have  never  known  a  man  who  seemed  to  hold  in  juster 
proportion  his  duties  to  himself,  his  friends,  his  family,  his 
country,  and  his  God.  If  all  men  were  like  him,  there 
would  be  less  discussion  of  the  comparative  merit  of  faith 
and  works." 

On  the  30th  of  June  he  wrote  from  Washington  as 
follows :  — 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  Fortress  Monroe.  Our  rela 
tions  to  the  enemy  are  so  complicated  and  uncertain  that  I 
could  accomplish  very  little.  The  only  hopeful  sign  is,  that 
my  major  did  not  return  with  the  rest.  I  had  a  pleasant 
enough  visit  at  the  Fortress. 

"I  go  to  our  camp  near  Winchester  to-morrow  morning, 
and  shall  be  absent  a  few  days.  Now  is  the  season  of  rapid 
changes,  and  I  hope  for  a  change  for  the  better. 

"  Speculation  or  prophecy  will  be  disaster  or  fulfilment 
before  this  reaches  you,  so  I  will  say  adieu. 

"  Hope  and  pray.  If  all  goes  smoothly  for  me,  I  shall  see 
you  again  for  a  few  days  next  week.  But  I  fear  even  a 
longer  delay.  Love  to  all." 

18 


274  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

He  arrived  in  Brookline  during  the  following  week. 
This  second  return,  without  hope  of  immediate  ex 
change,  was  too  severe  a  trial  to  him  to  be  a  source 
of  unalloyed  pleasure  to  those  who  welcomed  him. 
His  home  was  no  longer  with  us.  His  home  was 
with  his  regiment,  where,  during  his  recent  visit,  he 
had  seen  how  much  he  was  needed.  We  missed  the 
gladness  which  had  animated  him  on  his  first  return. 
We  saw  how  hard  he  found  it  to  be  resigned  to  the 
dispensation  which  held  him  back  from  the  perform 
ance  of  those  duties  that  were  forever  knocking  at 
his  heart. 

Yet  there  are  bright  spots  to  look  back  upon,  even 
in  this  last  visit.  Among  the  pleasantest  to  him  were 
Commencement  and  Phi  Beta  days  at  Cambridge, 
which  he  enjoyed  with  his  accustomed  zest. 

The  following  is  extracted  from  an  eloquent  tribute 
paid  him,  after  his  death,  by  a  distinguished  writer.* 
It  contains  a  vivid  picture  of  his  appearance  on  the 
latter  occasion :  — 

"  At  the  dinner  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society,  of  Har 
vard  University,  in  July  last,  after  General  Devens  had 
made  a  stirring  speech,  and  Holmes,  in  a  clear  ringing  voice, 
had  chanted  the  fiery  music  of  his  battle-lyric,  '  Never  or 
Now,'  and  the  other  speakers  had  all  obeyed  the  imperial 
impulse  of  the  hour,  there  was  a  sudden  and  loud  call  for  a 
young  man  who  was  trying  to  escape  from  the  hall,  —  the 
only  retreat  he  ever  willingly  attempted, —  and,  at  last,  yield 
ing  to  the  summons,  he  turned  and  fronted  the  company 
with  a  bright,  ardent  smile,  while,  amidst  the  shouts  and 
thunders  of  applause,  the  President  introduced  him  as 

*  George  William  Curtis. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D  WIGHT.  275 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Wilder  Dwight,  a  prisoner  of  war  at 
large  upon  his  parole.  The  heroic  aspect,  the  burning 
words,  the  passionate  appeal  he  made  for  honor  and  liberty, 
we  shall  none  of  us  forget. 

"  And  now  that  he  shall  be  seen  no  more,  we  remember 
him  as  he  stood  there,  the  express  image  of  that  dauntless 
daring,  that  blithe  earnestness,  that  religious  faith,  by  which 
alone  the  great  victory  is  to  be  won." 

On  Monday,  A.  M.,  August  11,  he  received  the  news 
that  his  exchange  was  effected.  At  the  same  time 
he  heard  of  the  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain,  in  which 
his  regiment  had  lost  so  heavily. 

Every  true  soldier  can  appreciate  the  bitterness  of 
his  feeling  at  hearing  that  his  regiment  had  been  in 
action  without  him.  The  loss  of  his  friends  who  had 
fallen  cut  him  to  the  heart.  He  suffered  as  he  had 
never  suffered  before.  Some  hours  were  given  to 
visiting  the  friends  of  the  wounded  and  the  killed, 
and  to  making  arrangements  for  serving  them ;  then 
he  left  us,  never  again  to  return. 

His  premonition  that  he  should  not  live  to  come 
back  had  seemed  to  gain  strength  with  every  passing 
day.  He  often  expressed  it  naturally  and  cheerfully. 
The  evening  before  he  left  home  he  talked  of  it  more 
seriously,  casting  his  view  forward  into  the  future 
world.  He  would  have  us  prepared  for  what  was  to 
come. 

Those  who  met  him  on  the  last  sad  morning  saw 
in  his  face  what  he  felt.  To  more  than  one  he  said, 
as  he  took  leave  of  them,  "  It  is  the  last  time." 

Yet,  his  anxious  thought  was  not  now  for  himself. 
He  was  bearing  others'  burdens. 


276  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  I  took  it  hard  this  morning,"  he  said  to  us  in 
parting.  "  I  feel  better  now.  I  shall  get  back  and 
help  those  poor  fellows,  and  that  will  be  a  comfort." 
And  with  a  look  full  of  love  and  care,  and  "  God  bless 
you ! "  on  his  lips,  he  was  gone. 

On  reaching  camp  he  wrote  :  — 

"  CAMP   NEAR    COLPEPER,  VIRGINIA, 

August  13,  1862,  9  P.M. 

"  I  have  a  chance  to  send  a  line,  but  hardly  time  to 
write.  A  sharp,  sudden  half-hour's  work,  under  desperate 
circumstances,  has  crippled  us  sadly,  as  you  must  have 
heard  only  too  well.  My  return  has  been  simply  sad  and 
bitter. 

"  Of  the  hopes  that  may  be  indulged,  I  think  these  are 
accurate.  Major  Savage,  a  wounded  prisoner,  and  Captain 
Russell,  unwounded,  taken  while  caring  for  Major  Savage. 
Captain  Quiiicy,  a  wounded  prisoner,  able  to  walk  off  the 
field.  Lieutenant  Miller,  a  slightly  wounded  prisoner.  You 
know  of  Robeson,  Grafton,  and  Oakey.  Lieutenant  Brown 
ing  is  also  wounded  severely,  but  not  dangerously.  Our 
loss  in  killed,  twenty-seven  ;  wounded,  one  hundred  and 
four ;  missing,  thirty.  There  will  be  many  deaths  from 
wounds. 

"  Our  five  brave,  honorable,  beloved  dead  *  are  on  their  way 
to  Massachusetts.  She  has  no  spot  on  her  soil  too  sacred 
for  them,  no  page  in  her  history  that  their  names  will  not 
brighten. 

"  The  regiment  looks  well,  but  0,  so  gloomy !  I  have 
much  to  tell,  but  to-night,  after  the  fatigue  and  stress  of  the 
last  three  days,  cannot  write. 

"  As  for  myself,  I  look  forward.     Love  to  all." 

*  Captain  Edward  Gardiner  Abbott,  Captain  Richard  Cary,  Captain  Richard 
Chapman  Goodwin,  Captain  William  Blackstone  Williams,  and  Lieutenant 
Stephen  George  Perkins. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   I) WIGHT.  277 

Two  days  later  lie  wrote  :  — 

"CAMP  NEAR  CULPEPER,  VIRGINIA,  August  15,  1862. 

"  I  have  fallen  into  camp  life  and  its  spirit  quite  easily. 
It  is  the  virtue  of  duty  in  the  field  that  it  is  persistent,  in 
exorable,  exacting.  It  is  the  virtue  of  the  military  life  that 
it  is  busy  and  ardent.  Both  these  considerations  urge  them 
selves  on  me  as  I  sit  down  to  write  in  cheerful  temper,  while 
there  are  so  many  reasons  for  heaviness  and  sorrow. 

"  Our  crippled  regiment  turns  out  to  its  duties  and  pa 
rades  as  if  nothing  had  happened  to  it,  while  its  thinned 
ranks  and  vacant  posts  tell  the  story  of  its  trial  and  losses,  — 
of  its  glory  too. 

"  Yesterday  morning  I  spent  with  Colonel  Andrews  in 
visiting  our  wounded,  and  doing  my  possible  for  them.  It 
is  hard  to  see  some  of  the  very  best  of  our  men  disabled ; 
but  their  pluck  and  cheeriness  are  delightful.  The  regi 
ment  behaved  wonderfully,  but  the  position  into  which  they 
were  ordered  was  a  hopeless  one. 

"  After  dinner  General  Gordon  and  I  rode  out  to  the 
field  of  battle,  and  I  examined  it  thoroughly.  I  shall  write 
out  and  send  you  a  full  account  of  the  position  and  the 
action.  The  scene  was  full  of  interest.  I  went  to  the  spot 
where  Gary  fell  and  lay  till  he  died  on  the  following  day. 
I  found,  too,  where  our  other  officers  fell.  The  evening 
was  spent  with  Professor  "Rogers,  Mr.  Dean,  Mr.  Shaw,  and 
others,  who  have  come  out  to  get  tidings  of  our  officers. 

"  This  morning  we  have  had  a  grand  review  (the  first 
occasion  of  my  putting  on  my  sword  as  Lieutenant-Colonel) 
of  Banks's  corps.  As  we  passed  out  to  the  field  our  bands 
played  a  dirge,  and  we  paid  a  marching  salute  to  Colonel 
Donelly,  who  had  just  died  of  his  wounds,  and  was  lying  in 
a  house  in  the  town.  Then  to  the  field.  The  loss  of  the 
corps  is  about  two  thousand  five  hundred.  Their  work  was 
done  in  a  few  hours,  and  all  you  can  say  is,  the  enemy  went 
back,  but  their  loss  can  hardly  have  equalled  ours. 


278  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  Tliis  afternoon  I  am  on  duty  again,  so  that  I  have  no 
time  for  writing  you  as  I  could  wish.  I  hope  something 
can  be  done  to  recruit  us  up  to  an  approach  to  our  former 
numbers.  Nothing  can  ever  make  good  our  losses.  Gary 
and  Goodwin  and  Grafton  were  all  too  sick  to  march,  and 
went  up  to  the  battle-field  in  ambulances,  rushing  forth 
when  their  regiment  was  ordered  forward. 

"  All  these  and  many  other  memories  I  could  write  if  I 
had  time.  Love  to  all  at  home.  I  am  well,  and  most  happy 
to  be  back  here." 

Again  he  wrote  :  — 

"  CAMP  NEAR  CULPEPER,  VIRGINIA,  August  17,  1862,  Sunday. 

"  The  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain,  or,  correctly,  Slaughters 
Mountain,  or,  in  common  speech,  Slaughter  Mountain,  seems 
to  be  proclaimed  by  General  Pope,  accepted  by  General  Hal- 
leek,  and,  probably,  welcomed  by  the  country,  as  one  of  the 
most  obstinate,  desperate,  and  gallant  contests  of  the  war. 

"It  is  claimed  loudly  and  with  argument  by  both  sides 
as  a  victory,  and  therefore  lacks  the  best  test  of  success, 
namely,  to  prove  itself.  It  failed  to  be  decisive.  What 
Jackson  intended  by  his  move  across  the  Rapidan  is  known, 
perhaps,  to  himself.  If  he  meant  to  hurt  and  to  get  hurt, 
he  succeeded.  If  he  meant  anything  further,  he  failed. 
But  he  left  a  sting  behind  him. 

"  The  right  wing  of  Banks's  army  was  certainly  hurled 
into  a  storm  that  wellnigh  wrecked  it.  The  field  of  battle 
was  well  chosen  by  the  enemy.  From  the  slopes  of  Slaugh 
ter's  Mountain  on  his  right,  whence  he  commanded  the 
whole  field  and  viewed  it  at  a  glance,  to  his  left  in  the  wood 
the  enemy  were  strong.  Our  men  attacked,  and  held  them 
back  most  gallantly. 

"  But  you  must  get  the  outline  and  details  of  the  battle 
from  other  sources.  I  will  attempt  to  follow  my  regiment 
as  it  went  into  action  without  me,  in  its  hot  and  toilsome 
march  from  Hazel  River  to  Culpeper,  where  it  arrived  on 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D WIGHT.  279 

Friday  at  midnight,  and  bivouacked  near  its  present  camp, 
in  its  weary  and  feverish  approach  to  the  field  on  Saturday, 
and  in  its  sharp  trial  as  the  day  closed. 

"  The  regiment  marched  from  Culpeper  about  six  miles 
to  the  field,  and  arrived  soon  after  noon.  It  went  into  posi 
tion  on  the  right,  on  high  ground,  in  the  edge  of  a  wood. 
There  the  men  waited,  rested,  and  lunched.  The  battle  was 
going  on,  on  our  left  and  centre,  mainly  with  artillery. 

"  At  last,  and  after  five  o'clock,  P.  M.,  the  sharper  musketry 
on  our  right  told  that  they  would  probably  be  called  on. 
Suddenly  Colonel  Andrews  got  an  order  to  move  immedi 
ately  to  the  support  of  Crawford's  brigade,  then  engaged  in 
a  wood  about  one  third  of  a  mile  in  our  front.  General 
Crawford,  it  seems,  had,  with  mysterious  wisdom,  and  with 
out  full  examination  of  the  field,  pushed  his  brigade  out  into 
an  open  wheat-field,  bounded  on  two  sides  by  woods  which 
the  enemy  was  holding.  There  he  was,  suffering  and  per 
ishing,  at  the  moment  the  order  came  to  the  Second.  Colo 
nel  Andrews  moved  them,  as  ordered,  at  a  double-quick, 
down  the  hill,  across  the  field,  through  the  bog,  over  the 
ditch  or  '  run,'  up  a  steep  hillside,  and  into  a  wood  dense 
and  thickly  grown,  on,  on,  on  till  out  they  came  upon  an  open 
field,  of  which  I  give  you  a  sketch  on  the  opposite  page. 

"  The  regiment  was  a  good  deal  disordered  when  it  got 
through  the  woods.  It  marched  out  through  a  gap  in  the 
fence  into  the  open  wheat-field,  in  which  the  recently  cut 
shocks  of  wheat  were  standing,  as  indicated  on  the  plan.  It 
was  formed  under  a  fire  from  the  woods  opposite^  but  soon 
brought  inside  of  the  fence,  and  ordered  to  lie  down  behind 
the  fence.  A  few  words  more  about  the  ground. 

"  The  open  field  is  not  level ;  there  is  a  swell  of  the  ground, 
which  falls  off  gently  toward  the  enemy's  side,  and  becomes 
a  marsh  ;  but  as  it  approaches  the  enemy's  wood,  it  rises 
again  rather  suddenly,  and  the  hillside  thus  made  is  densely 
wooded. 

"  On  this  wooded  hillside  the  enemy  were  piled  up.     The 


280  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

woods  indicated  on  the  plan  on  the  right  of  the  open  field 
are  a  low,  bushy  growth,  hardly  taller  anywhere  than  a  man, 
but  so  very  thick  as  to  be  a  perfect  cover. 

"  Recollect  that  the  enemy  held  this  approach  to  our 
right. 

"  When  Colonel  Andrews  entered  the  woods  through 
which  he  came  to  this  open  field,  he  met  dismayed  soldiers 
of  Crawford's  brigade,  saying,  '  We  are  beaten  !  '  Crawford 
had  driven  his  brigade,  before  this,  at  a  charge,  across  this 
field,  or  tried  to  do  so,  and  the  fire  from  both  directions  upon 
them  proved  very  destructive. 

"  The  Second  took  up  a  position  behind  the  fence,  as  I 
have  said.  Captain  Abbott,  with  his  company  as  skirmishers, 
had  advanced  beyond  the  fence  into  the  field,  but  were  sub 
sequently  withdrawn. 

"  Colonel  Andrews  had,  in  front  of  him,  the  enemy  in 
these  woods,  and  could  see  only  the  flash  of  their  guns. 
Still,  he  suffered  very  little.  Soon  he  was  ordered  to  move 
down  toward  the  right  farther,  which  brought  him  quite 
close  to  the  low  wood.  At  this  time  he  got  an  order  to 
charge  across  the  field. 

"  He  said  it  was  impossible,  and  General  Gordon,  whom 
he  went  to  see,  agreed  with  him.  Colonel  Andrews  declined 
to  do  it,  saying  it  would  be  simply  the  destruction  of  the 
regiment. 

"  It  afterwards  turned  out  that  the  order  had  been  mis 
understood  by  the  staff-officer  who  gave  it.  General  Craw 
ford's  brigade,  it  must  be  remembered,  had  retired  from 
the  scene  before  Gordon's  brigade  came  up  to  the  field. 
Gordon's  brigade  of  three  regiments,  part  of  one  of  which, 
the  Third  Wisconsin,  had  already  been  engaged  in  Craw 
ford's  first  charge,  were  alone  in  this  position,  and  without 
support.  Soon  after  this  Colonel  Andrews  saw  a  Rebel  line 
advancing  diagonally  across  the  field.  He  at  once  opened 
a  file-fire  upon  it  from  our  regiment.  Gaps  opened,  the 
Rebel  line  wavered,  and  became  very  much  broken.  While 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  281 

this  was  going  on,  and  when  it  seemed  that  this  advance 
might  be  checked,  a  fire  opened  from  the  woods  in  which 
we  were,  on  our  right  flank,  and  even  in  rear  of  it.  Colonel 
Andrews  found  that  the  troops  on  our  right,  of  our  own 
brigade,  had  been  driven  back.  This  first  fire,  on  our  flank, 
killed  Captain  Goodwin,  commanding  the  right  company, 
and  dropped  half  of  that  company.  Colonel  Andrews  then 
ordered  the  regiment  to  fall  back.  At  this  time  the  fire 
upon  us  was  from  front,  from  beyond  our  right,  diagonally, 
and,  most  severely  of  all,  directly  upon  our  flank.  The 
enemy  were  in  overwhelming  force,  and  we  were  left  alone. 

"  Under  a  fire  of  this  kind  no  troops  can  stand  or  live. 
This  flank  fire  cannot  be  replied  to  without  a  change  of 
front  or  a  supporting  force.  These  were  impossibilities. 
Under  a  storm  of  bullets  which  our  thinned  ranks  (for  then 
our  heavy  loss  was  suffered)  attests  only  too  strongly,  the 
gallant  regiment  withdrew,  leaving  one  third,  nearly,  be 
hind. 

"  The  trees  in  the  wood  remain  to  testify  to  the  severity 
of  the  fire.  There  and  then,  within  a  few  yards  of  the 
fence,  fell  Goodwin  and  Abbott  and  Williams  and  Gary  and 
Perkins,  and  many  a  fine  soldier  by  their  sides.  The  colors 
were  shot  through  and  through,  the  staff  shattered  and 
broken  in  two,  the  eagle  torn  from  the  staff,  but  Sergeant 
George,  of  Company  A,  the  color-bearer,  brought  them  off 
in  safety  and  in  honor.  As  soon  as  the  regiment,  in  its 
retreat,  came  outside  of  the  wood,  it  was  re-formed  by  Colo 
nel  Andrews  near  the  point  where  it  had  entered.  The 
whole  time  since  it  entered  the  woods  was  little  more  than 
half  an  hour.  Many  of  the  men,  besides  those  actually  hit, 
had  stopped  to  give  aid  to  the  wounded  or  dying,  and  so  the 
regiment  was  a  mere  fragment. 

"  It  went  back  to  a  point  near  its  original  position,  and 
near  a  house,  which  at  once  became  a  hospital.  Colonel 
Andrews  describes  the  feeling  with  which  he  then  discovered 
the  losses.  Of  the  captains,  seven  went  in,  and  one  only, 


282  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

Captain  Bangs,  came  back.  Of  the  lieutenants  —  but  you 
know  the  record.  At  first  it  was  thought  and  hoped  that 
our  list  would  be  of  wounded.  Alas  !  how  speedy  was  death. 
The  regiment  was  soon  moved  toward  the  centre  :  and  it. 
spent  the  night,  in  presence  of  the  enemy,  on  outpost  duty. 
During  the  night  there  was  some  confusion  and  fighting. 
One  of  our  sentinels  took  five  of  the  enemy's  cavalry  with 
skill  and  courage.  His  name  is  Harrington,  Company  E. 
I  had  noticed  him  previously,  as  a  bold,  cool  man. 

"  Among  the  incidents  of  the  fight,  Corporal  Durgin,  one 
of  the  color-guard,  was  approached  by  three  Rebels,  as  he 
was  looking  for  Major  Savage.  He  at  once  called  out :  '  Ad 
jutant,  bring  that  squad  here.  I've  got  three  prisoners.' 
The  men  hesitated  ;  one  struck  him  with  his  musket,  when 
Durgin  doubled  him  up  by  a  thrust  of  his  rifle,  shot  a  second 
one,  while  the  third  ran  away,  and  Durgin  ran  too. 

"  Colonel  Andrews's  horse  was  shot  twice  ;  once  in  neck 
and  once  in  shoulder.  Major  Savage's  horse  was  shot  after 
he  dismounted,  and  he  was  subsequently  wounded.  Captain 
Russell  stopped  to  help  him,  and  was  so  caught.  Captain 
Quincy,  too,  was  wounded  and  taken. 

"  On  Monday  morning,  the  enemy  having  drawn  back, 
our  burial-party  went  out.  Gary  was  found,  as  if  placidly 
sleeping,  under  an  oak  near  the  fence.  He  had  lived  until 
Sunday.  His  first  sergeant,  Williston,  was  at  his  side,. alive, 
though  severely  wounded.  He  had  watched  with  him,  and 
when  the  Rebels  took  from  him  all  that  was  valuable,  Wil 
liston  begged  the  men  to  give  him  Gary's  ring  and  locket  for 
his  wife,  and  their  hearts  melted,  and  he  was  happy  in  giving 
them  up  to  be  sent  to  her. 

"  Abbott  wore  a  proud,  defiant,  earnest  look,  as  when  he 
fell,  with  the  words  on  his  lips  :  4  Give  it  to  that  flag,  men ! ' 
pointing  to  the  Rebel  emblem  opposite.  Goodwin  and  Wil 
liams  and  Perkins  too.  Gary  and  Perkins  and  Goodwin 
went  to  the  fight  in  ambulances,  being  too  sick  to  go. 
Goodwin  had  to  be  helped  along  into  the  fight,  but  said, 
4 1  cannot  stay  when  my  men  are  going.' 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  283 

"  It  was  a  sad  burden  that  was  brought  back  to  our  biv 
ouac  on  Monday. 

"  I  have  twice  visited  and  examined  the  field,  and  tried  to 
live  over  again  the  scene,  that  I  may  share,  as  far  as  possible, 
the  memories  of  my  regiment. 

"  I  was  seeking,  by  description,  the  spot  where  my  dear 
friend  Gary  fell  and  died,  and  was  in  some  doubt  about  it, 
when  my  eye  caught,  among  the  leaves,  a  cigarette  paper. 
I  knew  at  once  that  it  must  be  the  place,  and  looking  far 
ther,  I  found  some  writing  with  his  name  on  it.  These  had 
doubtless  fallen  from  his  pocket. 

"  I  took  them  as  mementos,  and  cut  also  a  piece  of  wood 
from  the  stump  on  which  his  head  rested.  These  I  have 
sent  to  his  wife. 

"  Our  chaplain  was  busy  near  the  field  with  the  wounded 
all  night.  His  fidelity  and  constancy  in  remaining  there 
after  our  forces  withdrew  deserve  recollection. 

u  This  morning  we  have  had  service,  and  the  camp  is  now 
under  the  influence  of  its  Sunday  quiet.  There  are  a  good 
many  questions  about  the  fight,  and  the  responsibility  of  it, 
which  I  will  not  discuss.  It  seems  a  pity  that  we  pressed 
them  on  our  right.  The  darkness  was  so  near,  and  the 
night  would  have  given  vis  time  to  concentrate  our  forces. 
But  it  is  as  ifris.  No  troops  ever  encountered  a  severer  test, 
and  our  regiment  behaved  nobly.  Voild  ! 

"  To-morrow  we  shall  have  our  muster,  and  account  for 
our  losses. 

"  We  may,  probably,  be  here  some  time,  to  repair  our 
losses.  I  went  out  to  dress-parade  this  evening,  and  as  I 
inarched  to  the  front,  with  five  other  officers,  to  salute  Colo 
nel  Andrews,  our  griefs  seemed  heavy  enough.  The  Third 
Wisconsin  Regiment,  so  foully  slandered  by  some  of  the 
newspapers,  behaved  gallantly,  and  did  all  that  men  could 
do. 

"  Tell  Colonel  William,  of  Williamsburg,  that  Crawford 
pushed  his  brigade  out  into  that  open  wheat-field  without 


284  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

skirmishing  at  all  on  his  right,  and  never  sent  a  skirmisher 
into  the  bushes  and  low  woods  on  the  right  of  the  field. 

"  We  were  rushed  up  at  a  double-quick  to  his  support, 
and  occupied  the  ground  that  he  had  just  lost.  Bah  !  then 
it  was  too  late. 

"  I  send  you  a  memorandum  of  my  wants  on  a  slip  of 
paper.  The  weather  has  been  cool  for  several  days  ;  the 
nights  even  cold.  I  am  in  excellent  health,  and  I  hope  you 
are  well  and  in  good  spirits. 

"  Colonel  Andrews's  behavior  in  the  fight  is  the  admira 
tion  of  all. 

"  My  love  to  all  at  home.  Write  me,  and  send  me  every 
scrap  about  the  regiment  and  our  lost  brave  men." 

"!N  BIVOUAC  NEAR  RAPPAHANNOCK  CROSSING,  August  20,  1862. 

"  I  had  hardly  finished  my  last  letter  when  marching 
orders  came.  We  had  a  night's  bivouac  Monday,  a  tedious, 
dusty,  broiling  march  yesterday,  and  another  bivouac  last 
night  behind  the  Rappahannock,  which  is  now  between  us 
and  the  enemy,  who  were,  I  suppose,  themselves  awaiting  us 
beyond  the  Rapidan.  I  have  no  spirit  for  speculation  or 
prophecy,  only  an  aching  for  result  and  fulfilment 

"  Lieutenant  Mills  has  reported  for  duty,  and  finds  him 
self  very  busy.  He  comes  at  the  moment  when  we  need 
every  officer's  service.  He  will  do  well.  Last  evening  when 
we  came  on  to  the  field,  I  found  Private  Kent  Stone  waiting 
for  me,  looking  bright  and  earnest.  He  came  on  in  charge 
of  the  new  recruits  from  Washington  ;  and  as  soon  as  we 
were  established,  he  marched  his  recruits  into  our  field,  and 
they  were  assigned  to  their  companies.  I  advised  the  Stones 
to  go  into  Company  C,  Captain  Cogswell,  and  they  will  be 

well  cared  for  there There  is  nothing  to  tell.  I 

suppose  our  movements  are  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  a 
junction  with  McClellan's  forces,  which  are,  at  all  events, 
expected  by  us. 

"  This  is  the  end  of  my  week  since  joining.  It  has  been 
a  full  one." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  285 

At  this  time  a  prohibition  was  put  upon  the  mails, 
and  Colonel  D  wight  was  unable  to  send  home  his 
usual  journal  until  September  3,  when  he  wrote  from 
Washington  :  — 

"  After  an  experience  of  sixteen  days  here,  I  am  humil 
iated,  exhausted,  yet  well  and  determined. 

"  The  history  of  Pope's  retreat,  without  a  line  and  without 
a  base,  is  a  military  novelty.  We  lived  on  the  country,  with 
a  witness,  —  green  corn  and  green  apples.  Twice  cut  off 
by  the  enemy,  —  everything  in  discomfort  and  confusion. 

"  Forced  marches,  wakeful  bivouacs,  retreat,  retreat.  0, 
it  was  pitiful !  and  now  a  whole  city  full,  here  at  Washington 
begins  to  feel  our  presence.  Bah  ! 

"  The  regiment  has  behaved  well,  the  brigade  has  behaved 
well.  Charley's  accident  was  funny.  He  was  taken  from 
his  horse  in  a  meUe,  but  Colonel  Taylor  assures  me  unhurt 
and  lively.*  It  is  the  family  luck.  I  will  write  more  when 
I  can,  and  when  I  have  been  to  sleep.  I  am  perfectly  well, 
and  in  as  good  spirits  as  can  be  expected.  Have  got  a  large 
mail  to-day.  Thanks  for  letters.  Love  to  all  at  home. 

Keep there.  The  service  is  not  for  the  young  ;  and 

though  the  race  seems  to  be  to  the  swift,  the  battle  is  not 
yet  to  the  strong." 

"CAMP  NEAR  TENNALLYTOWN,  MARYLAND,  September  5,  1862. 

"  I  wrote  you  a  hasty  scrawl  in  my  hurried  visit  to  Wash 
ington,  just  to  assure  you  of  our  safety  at  last.  That  was 
Wednesday.  We  went  into  camp  near  Fort  Albany,  and 
within  a  mile  of  the  Long  Bridge.  Yesterday  we  got  march 
ing  orders  again  ;  crossed  the  Potomac  at  Georgetown,  and 
came  out  here  on  the  Edwards's  Ferry  and  Darnestown  road, 
about  eight  miles,  and  are  now  in  camp 

*  Lieutenant  Charles  Dwight,  of  General  Sickles's  staff,  while  leading  a 
charge  on  the  enemy,  was  taken  prisoner  during  the  battle  of  Bristow  Station, 
August,  1862. 


286  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

"  We  suppose  that  we  are  to  go  up  the  river  towards 
Edwards's  Ferry.  You  would,  perhaps,  like  to  have  a  record 
of  our  life  since  we  occupied  the  line  of  the  Rappahannock 
till  to-day.  It  has  been  so  tense  and  corrosive  that  I  am  not 
yet  in  tone  to  write  an  account  of  it.  Our  week  on  the 
Rappahannock  was  a  series  of  marches,  countermarches,  vigils, 
pickets,  wet  bivouacs,  always  within  sound,  often  within 
reach,  of  the  enemy's  cannon,  moving  under  the  hissing 
importunity  of  flying  shells  and  round  shot.  One  morning 
at  Beverly  Ford  we  took  a  position  from  which  our  forces 
had  been  driven  two  previous  days.  Colonel  Andrews  and 
I  breakfasted  under  a  tree  with  shell  and  round  shot  moving 
merrily  about  us.  We  held  the  position.  On  Monday  night 
we  lay  under  arms  within  half  a  mile  of  the  battle  in  which 
Kearney  and  Stevens  fell,  near  Fairfax  Court-House.  The 
fight  was  a  fierce  one.  During  most  of  it  a  violent  thunder 
storm  raged  fearfully.  I  can  only  leave  you  to  imagine  the 
scene.  We.  were  all  night  under  arms,  wet  through,  and 
without  fires.  The  worst  night  I  ever  spent.  Tuesday 
night  we  came  in  last  over  the  Warrenton  Pike,  —  the  very 
tail  of  the  Grand  Army,  as  we  had  been  before. 

"  Our  risks  and  chances  have  been  great,  but  we  were  not 
in  either  of  the  fights  about  Manassas  or  Bull  Run.  I  am 
glad  of  it.  Unsuccessful  battles  we  have  had  enough  of. 
I  have  been  too  busy  to  get  news  of  Charley.  We  have 
been  on  the  march  for  eighteen  days.  Colonel  Taylor's 
account  of  the  matter  was  encouraging.  I  met  him  by 
chance  on  Tuesday.  Inquired  at  once  for  Charley.  His 
answer  was,  '  He  is  on  his  way  to  Richmond.'  I  was  taken 
aback.  Under  all  the  circumstances,  you  may  regard  him 
as  lucky. 

"  I  hope  he  will  be  paroled  without  being  taken  to  Rich 
mond. 

"  Our  recruits  have  had  a  hard  time.  It  is  an  illustration 
of  the  folly  of  our  whole  system  of  organization  and  recruit 
ing,  that  we  should  have  dragged  one  hundred  and  fourteen 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  287 

unarmed  recruits  through  all  this  business.  But  I  will  not 
begin  about  follies.  The  events  of  the  past  three  weeks  are 
incredible.  Disaster,  pitiable,  humiliating,  contemptible ! 
Love  to  all  at  home.  Now  that  we  are  in  Maryland,  I  sup 
pose  the  absurd  order  stopping  the  mails  will  be  rescinded. 
I  shall  write  again  as  soon  as  I  can." 

"  CAMP  BEYOND  ROCKVILLE,  MARYLAND,  September  7,  Sunday. 

"  It  is  a  hot,  sunny,  breezy  afternoon.  We  are  in  line  of 
battle  with  Simmer's  corps,  as  we  have  been  ever  since 
yesterday  noon.  The  air  is  full  of  rumors,  but  my  opinion 
is  firm  that  the  Rebels  will  not  cross  in  force  into  Maryland. 
If  they  do,  and  if  our  hearts  have  not  really  died  within  us, 
then  we  shall  be  fit  to  strike  them.  We  want  SOLDIERS, 
SOLDIERS,  and  a  GENERAL  IN  COMMAND.  Please  notice  the 
words,  all  of  them  ;  for  the  history  of  the  past  fifteen  months 
is  the  sad  record  of  that  want.  Nothing  surprising  happened 
in  Virginia.  The  force  brought  against  us  was  not  larger 
than  our  own,  was  equally  fatigued,  and,  still  more,  without 
food.  But  we  allowed  them,  —  impotently  and  with  fatal 
blindness,  allowed  them  to  outgeneral  us.  We  ignored  what 
was  passing  under  our  eyes,  denied  the  familiar  maxims  of 
military  science,  blustered  up  to  the  moment  of  defeat,  and 
then  fled  back  to  our  base. 

"  '  No  line  of  retreat.'  '  No  base  of  supply.'  '  No  strong 
positions.'  What  is  the  issue  of  that  policy  ?  A  starving 
army  hunting  lines  of  retreat  upon  the  firm  base,  and  up  to, 
and  within,  the  strong  fortification  of  its  capital.  We  stood 
on  the  banks  of  the  Rappahannock  a  week,  while  the  enemy 
steadily  pushed  his  columns  up  the  other  bank,  and  through 
a  well-known  mountain  pass  upon  our  rear.  0,  it  is  heavy 
to  see  life  and  hope  and  peace  and  honor  withering  away 
daily  under  such  influences  !  Nor  do  I  see  any  evidence  of 
tone  or  wisdom  in  power  anywhere 

"  It  has  come  back  to  McClellan  !  I  met  him  as  I  went 
into  Washington  the  other  day.  His  manner  was  gay,  con- 


288  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

fident,  elate.  His  staff  were  jubilant.  Again  he  takes  the 
reins,  and  what  do  you  expect  ?  I  must  hope,  though  I 
know  not  why." 

Once  more  he  wrote  from  Washington  :  — 

"  September  11, 1862. 

"  I  am  here  now  two  days  getting  arms  for  our  recruits. 
All  is  reported  quiet  beyond  Rockville,  and  I  do  not  return 
till  to-morrow. 

"  Charley  is  spoken  of  as  having  shown  gallantry  and 
conduct.  His  career  is  an  honorable  one." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  289 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

BATTLE   OF   ANTIETAM.  —  WOUNDED.  —  DEATH.  —  BURIAL. 


few  lines  from  Washington  with  which  the 
JL  preceding  chapter  closed  are  the  last  we  have 
from  Colonel  D  wight  until  those  written  on  the  morn 
ing  of  the  battle  of  Antietam,  in  which  he  fell.  From 
others  we  have  an  account  of  the  intervening  days. 
Mr.  Desellum,*  whose  farm,  four  miles  beyond  Rock- 
ville,  was  passed  by  our  army  on  its  way  to  Antietam, 
writes  :  — 

"  After  the  disastrous  experience  of  our  army  in  General 
Pope's  retreat,  and  its  pause  behind  the  fortifications  at 
Washington  to  recruit,  it  again  advanced. 

"Amidst  the  perils  and  dangers  thickening  r  around  us, 
the  friend  of  Colonel  D  wight,  Colonel  Batchelder,  of  the 
Massachusetts  Thirteenth,  rode  up.  He  informed  us  that 
Colonel  Dwight  was  alive  and  well,  would  soon  be  up,  and 
had  determined,  in  conversation  when  at  Arlington  Heights, 
to  call  and  see  us.  The  news  animated  us.  How  charac 
teristic  of  the  man,  to  think  of  obscure  friends  while  sur 
rounded  by  the  horrors  and  dangers  of  the  battle-field. 

"  Colonel  Dwight,  with  Colonel  Dalton,  called  upon  us  as 
expected.  The  time  and  circumstances  will  never  be  for 
gotten.  Immense  armies  were  in  motion,  the  Colonel  in 
haste  :  none  knew  the  danger  better  than  he,  or  was  more 
ready  to  meet  it.  But  oh  !  the  inroads  upon  the  Colonel's 
health  by  unmitigated  service  !  He  had  undergone  ex- 

*  See  page  86. 
19 


290  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

cessive  fatigue,  and  was  then  tortured  with  pain.  Riding 
up,  apparently  indifferent  to  suffering,  all  hastened  to  meet 
him.  His  first  remark  was,  '  Where  are  all  the  spinning- 
wheels  ?  Are  they  going  yet  ?  '  A  cordial  greeting  fol 
lowed.  He  called  all  the  colored  children  up  to  him, 
showed  them  to  Colonel  Dalton,  asked  them  questions,  and 
amused  himself  with  their  replies.  He  then  gave  us  a  nar 
rative  of  the  regiment  and  himself,  after  which  sister  and 
myself,  waiving  all  formality,  stated  our  domestic  troubles 
occasioned  by  the  war,  to  which  he  patiently  listened,  and 
kindly  replied. 

"  It  was  evident  he  needed  rest  and  refreshment,  and 
while  enjoying  both  he  requested  his  '  friend  of  the  spin 
ning-wheel  and  the  flower-garden  '  to  show  Colonel  Dalton 
her  domestic  manufactures  of  linens  and  woollens. 

"  He  appeared  to  feel  a  momentary  relief,  and  in  con 
versation  was  animated.  While  sister  was  trying  to  ad 
minister  to  his  comfort  on  a  couch  he  remarked  with  a 
pleasant  smile,  '  How  well  you  know  how  to  make  me  feel 
comfortable !  ' 

"  In  a  short  time  he  felt  refreshed,  and  determined  to 
press  forward.  I  implored  him  to  stay  a  few  days  with  us, 
at  least,  to  recruit  his  shattered  health  ;  entreaties  were  vain. 
He  well  knew  the  terrible  ordeal  before  him,  and  said,  with 
emphasis  full  of  meaning,  '  /  expect  active  service  !  '  He 
appeared  to  have  but  one  wish,  —  his  country's  good,  —  to 
which  health  and  all  other  considerations  were  subordinate. 

"  Bidding  sister,  colored  children,  and  all  a  final  farewell, 
lie  remarked  to  me,  ;  Come  to  our  camp  at  Damascus,'  and 
4 1  wish  you  to  correspond  with  me  by  letter.' 

"  Mounting  their  horses,  Colonel  D wight,  as  he  rode 
away,  politely  and  gallantly  bowed  and  waved  his  hat  three 
times  to  sister. 

"  I  went  a  short  distance  with  them,  speaking  as  encour 
agingly  as  a  full  heart  would  permit.  At  the  gate  the  final 
parting  ;  he  rode  away. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER    D  WIGHT.  291 

"  With  subdued  feelings,  I  could  only  invoke  the  Divine 
protection  in  his  behalf. 

"  Onward  he  went  through  pain  and  suffering,  severe 
marching,  privation,  battle,  victory,  wounds,  and  death." 

Chaplain   Quint  writes  :  — 

"  On  the  12th  of  September,  Friday,  Lieutenant-Colonel 
D  wight,  who  had  for  some  days  been  in  Washington  on  busi 
ness  for  the  regiment,  rejoined  us.  It  was  near  the  close  of 
the  day,  and  his  horse  bore  marks  of  his  haste  to  find  us. 
We  were  near  the  end  of  the  day's  movement,  and  he  and 
myself,  with  the  ambulances,  were  some  half  a  mile  behind, 
while  he  told  me  what  he  had  done  and  learned.  He  soon 
rode  on  and  joined  Colonel  Andrews.  He  had  been  suffering 
pain  in  the  early  part  of  the  week  from  a  carbuncle  on  his 
face,  and  was  still  weak. 

"  At  night  he  slept  in  a  tent  with  Colonel  Andrews,  Dr. 
Stone  dressing  the  face.  In  the  morning,  after  sunrise,  we 
left  our  camping-place,  and  soon  after  noon  reached  the 
vicinity  of  Frederick.  After  camp  was  in  order  Colonel 
Dwight,  Colonel  Andrews,  and  myself  rode  into  Frederick, 
where  Colonel  Dwight  was  joyfully  welcomed  by  the  numer 
ous  friends  he  had  made  the  preceding  winter.*  He  always 
made  friends,  he  never  lost  one.  On  Sunday  we  marched  to 
the  eastern  slope  of  the  Blue  Ridge  ;  a  most  fatiguing  day 
we  had,  and  it  was  past  midnight  when  we  lay  down  supper- 
less.  Colonel  Andrews,  Colonel  Dwight,  Dr.  Leland,  and 
myself  were  side  by  side.  We  anticipated  a  battle  ;  but  the 
enemy  had  left  during  the  night,  and  in  the  morning  we 
crossed  the  ridge,  passed  through  Boonesboro',  and  biv 
ouacked.  We  rode  together  nearly  all  day,  and  at  night 
my  arm  touched  him  if  I  moved.  He  was  cheerful  as  ever, 
but  far  from  well.  On  Tuesday  morning  his  blanket  and 
mine  were  put  together  on  rails  so  placed  as  to  insure  a 

*  See  Appendix  IX. 


292  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT. 

shelter  from  the  sun,  and  we  read  and  wrote  letters*  until  a 
sudden  order  to  move  preparatory  to  going  into  action.  We 
moved  about  a  mile  and  a  half,  were  drawn  up  in  position, 
but  only  artillery  fire  was  had,  and  at  night  we  camped. 
He  was  so  weak  that  Colonel  Andrews  and  myself  urged 
and  induced  him  to  lie  in  an  ambulance  which  Dr.  Leland 
offered.  He  entered  it  reluctantly.  We  had  not  been  q-uiet 
over  an  hour  when  orders  came  to  move.  He  and  myself 
again  rode  together,  generally  in  silence.  It  was  half  past 
ten  when  we  halted,  and  his  last  march  ended.  Near  by 
were  some  wheat-stacks.  We  took  a  little  and  lay  upon 
it ;  Colonel  Andrews,  Colonel  Dwight,  and  myself  together. 
He  said  but  little,  and  we  slept  until  about  five,  A.  M.,  when 
we  were  roused  by  cannonade.  Our  corps  was  speedily  moved 
towards  the  front,  but  a  little  distance  off." 

At  this  time  Colonel  Dwight  wrote,  in  pencil,  to 
his  mother  as  follows  :  — 

"NEAR  SIIARPSBURG,  September  17,  1862.     On  the  field. 

"  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  It  is  a  misty,  moisty  morning  ;  we  are 
engaging  the  enemy,  and  are  drawn  up  in  support  of  Hooker, 
who  is  now  banging  away  most  briskly.  I  write  in  the 
saddle,  to  send  you  my  love,  and  to  say  that  I  am  very  well 
so  far." 

•Chaplain  Quint  again  writes :  — 

"  Colonel  Dwight  was  as  active  and  efficient  as  ever.  It 
was  not  for  several  hours  that  our  regiment  went  into  action. 
Of  the  action  others  can  tell  infinitely  better,  as  I  was  caring 
for  the  wounded  who  were  brought  to  the  rear. 

"  I  am  told  of  his  bravery  and  daring,  —  that  after  our 
regiment  had  captured  a  Rebel  flag  he  galloped  up  and 

*  Whatever  may  have  been  written  by  Colonel  Dwight  on  this  morning  was 
lost  in  the  confusion  which  followed  the  battle  of  Antietam,  and  never  re 
covered. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF  WILDER    DWIGHT.  293 

down  the  lines  with  it  in  his  hand,  waving  it  amid  the  cheers 
of  the  men,  reckless  of  the  fire  of  the  enemy. 

"  Colonel  Andrews  was  with  him  as  he  was  shot,  and 
will  tell  the  circumstances. 

"  His  last  act  before  receiving  the  fatal  wound  was  to  walk 
along  the  line  of  the  regiment,  which  was  drawn  up  under 
the  shelter  of  a  fence,  and  direct  the  men  to  keep  their 
heads  down  out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemy's  fire." 

Colonel  Andrews  writes  :  — 

"  Lieutenant-Colonel  D  wight  was  mortally  wounded  within 
two  feet  of  me.  He  had  just  come  from  the  left  of  the  regi 
ment,  and  was  about  to  speak,  when  the  ball  struck  him  in 
the  left  hip.  He  fell,  saying,  4  They  have  done  for  me.' 
He  then  complained  of  intense  pain.  The  ball  also  wounded 
him  in  the  left  wrist.  The  regiment  soon  fell  back  a  short 
distance,  and  men  were  ordered  to  carry  him,  but  the  pain 
was  so  intense  that  he  refused  to  be  moved." 

Here,  while  alone  upon  the  field,  under  the  fire  of 
the  two  armies,  he  took  from  his  pocket  the  note 
which  he  had  written  in  the  morning,  and  added  to 
it  the  following  :  — 

"  DEAREST  MOTHER,  —  I  am  wounded  so  as  to  be  help 
less.  Good  by,  if  so  it  must  be.  I  think  I  die  in  victory. 
God  defend  our  country.  I  trust  in  God,  and  love  you 
all  to  the  last.  Dearest  love  to  father  and  all  my  dear 
brothers.  Our  troops  have  left  the  part  of  the  field  where 
Hay. 

"  Mother,  yours, 

"  WILDER." 

In  larger  and  firmer  characters,  across  the  opposite 
page,  he  wrote  these  words  :  "  All  is  well  with  those 
that  have  faith." 


294  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

The  paper  is  stained  with  his  blood,  and  the 
scarcely  legible  lines  show  with  what  difficulty  he 
accomplished  this  last  effort  of  a  life  filled  with  acts 
of  fidelity  and  love. 

We  next  hear  of  him  from  Private  Rupert  Sadler, 
who  crept  up  to  him  at  great  risk.  He  writes  :  — 

"  After  we  had  got  out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemy,  I  went 
out  to  see  what  had  become  of  Colonel  D  wight.  When  I 
got  near  the  road,  I  had  to  crawl  on  my  hands  and  knees. 
The  Rebels  had  not  advanced  any,  and  I  saw  a  horse  which 
I  thought  was  the  Colonel's.  While  I  was  examining  it  a 
squad  of  Rebels  saw  me,  and  began  firing  at  me.  I  laid 
down  behind  the  horse  until  they  stopped.  After  I  had 
looked  about  for  a  few  moments  I  saw  a  man  with  his  head 
lying  on  a  rail.  I  felt  that  it  was  the  Colonel,  and  I  hurried 
to  him.  It  was  as  I  thought.  I  gave  him  a  drink  of  water, 
and  asked  him  where  it  was  he  was  wounded.  He  said  that 
his  thigh-bone  was  shattered.  I  saw  his  arm  was  bleeding, 
and  asked  him  was  it  serious.  He  said,  '  It  is  a  pretty  little 
wound.'  I  saw  two  of  our  men  coming,  and  I  called  them 
over.  The  Rebels  saw  them,  and  began  firing.  After  the 
firing  had  ceased  Colonel  Dwight  wanted  us  to  go  back  to 
the  regiment.  Said  he,  '  Rupert,*  if  you  live,  I  want  you 
to  be  a  good  boy.'  I  wanted  to  bind  up  his  wounds,  but  he 
said  it  was  '  no  use.'  He  gave  me  a  paper  that  he  had  been 
trying  to  write  on,  and  the  pencil.  The  paper  was  covered 
with  his  blood.  I  gave  them  all  to  Colonel  Andrews,  except 
the  pencil ;  I  have  that  now.  He  then  gave  us  directions 
as  to  carrying  him.  We  lifted  him  carefully,  and  carried 
him  into  a  cornfield.  In  the  evening  I  was  detailed,  by 

*  This  brave,  devoted  boy,  then  a  private  of  Company  D,  did  not  long  sur 
vive  the  friend  and  benefactor  for  whom  he  so  freely  risked  his  life.  Soon  after 
the  battle  of  Antietam  he  was  made  color-corporal.  He  was  killed  in  action  at 
Gettysburg  on  the  3d  of  July,  1863,  while  carrying  the  colors. 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT.  295 

Colonel  Andrews,  at  Colonel  D  wight's  request,  to  go  and 
take  care  of  him.     I  was  with  him  until  he  died." 

Magee,  one  of  the  men  who  helped  carry  him  from 
the  field  where  he  fell,  says :  "  When  we  first  came 
to  him  to  lift  him  up  he  said,  '  Boys,  don't  think  that 
because  I  am  wounded  I  feel  any  less  spirit  than  I 
did  before,  for  I  feel  just  the  same.'  We  were  look 
ing  for  an  easy  place  to  put  him  down,  when  he  said 
to  us,  '  Put  me  down  anywhere,  boys ;  any  place  is 
good  enough  for  me.'  " 

He  was  here  joined  by  General  Gordon,  who 
writes  :  — 

"  As  Wilder  was  brought  back  from  the  fatal  spot  to  the 
wood  that  skirts  the  battle-field,  I  rode  to  his  side.  He  had 
just  been  laid  under  a  tree,  the  blanket  in  which  he  had 
been  carried  under  him.  As  I  reined  up  my  horse  his  eye 
met  mine,  and  he  almost  exultingly  saluted  me.  At  this 
moment  bullets  whistled  over  our  heads,  shot  and  shell 
crashed  through  the  trees  ;  the  wood  was  no  longer  a  safe 
place  for  the  wounded  :  I  said,  '  I  must  have  you  imme 
diately  removed  from  here.'  He  replied  with  heroic  firm 
ness,  '  Never  mind  me  ;  only  whip  them.'  ....  I  ordered 
six  men  to  take  hold  of  the  blanket  and  carry  him  to  the 
rear,  where  he  could  be  cared  for.  I  would  have  gone  my 
self,  but  my  command  had  no  other  leader.  I  never  saw 
my  friend  again.  I  am  sincerely  a  mourner  that  I  shall 
meet  him  no  more  on  earth.  I  can  also  rejoice  that  such 
an  example  is  left  me." 

Chaplain  Quint  writes  :  — 

"  My  servant  found  me  and  told  me  that  Colonel  D  wight 
was  wounded.  I  immediately  began  to  search  for  him  ;  but, 
though  I  was  in  the  saddle,  could  not  find  him  for  an  hour. 
I  then  discovered  him  with  friends  in  the  garden  of  a  hos- 


296  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

pital  somewhat  in  the  rear.  He  was  lying  on  a  stretcher, 
covered  by  a  blanket,  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  quite  pale 
from  loss  of  blood.  As  I  kneeled  down  beside  him  he  opened 
his  eyes  and  smiled,  as  he  took  my  hand  :  i  Is  that  you, 
Chaplain  ? '  said  he.  I  expressed  my  sorrow  for  his  wounds  ; 
and,  doubtless,  he  saw  my  deep  feeling  in  my  face,  for  he 
immediately  added,  in  a  coaxing  tone, '  Don't  feel  bad  ' ;  and 
with  a  firm  look  and  natural  smile,  said,  '  It  is  all  right,  all 
right?  I  replied, '  I  thank  God  you  feel  so  cheerful.'  When 
he  added,  '  Now,  Chaplain,  I  know  I  'm  done  for,  but  I  want 
you  to  understand  I  don't  flinch  a  hair.  I  should  like  to  live 
a  few  days,  so  as  to  see  my  father  and  my  mother  ;  they 
think  a  good  deal  of  me ;  especially  my  mother  ;  too  much 
(this  was  said  smilingly),  but,  apart  from  that,  if  God  calls 
for  me  this  minute  I  'm  ready  to  go.'  Colonel  Andrews 
soon  came,  and,  bending  over  him,  yielded  to  the  grief  which 
overwhelmed  him.  Colonel  D  wight  threw  his  arm  around 
his  friend's  neck,  and  drew  him  down  to  him,  saying,  4  Kiss 
me,  dear,  don't  take  it  so  hard,  dear  fellow,  don't  take  it  so 
hard ;  think  how  much  better  it  is  that  I  should  be  lying 
here  than  you,  who  have  wife  and  children  at  home.'  He 
then  talked  with  him  freely  on  the  subject  of  the  day's  fight, 
and  other  matters.  He  said  to  him,  '  I  want  it  distinctly 
understood  that,  in  dying,  I  have  no  personal  regrets  ;  my 
only  regret  is,  that  I  cannot  longer  serve  the  cause.'  He 
gave  him  the  history  of  the  boy  Sadler,  who  had  been  his 
charge  before  the  war,  and  for  whom  he  now  asked  Colonel 
Andrews's  sympathy  and  care.  He  said,  too,  that  he  should 
like,  if  he  had  strength,  to  prepare  something  which  might 
be  read  to  the  regiment  from  him  ;  adding,  with  a  smile,  '  if 
it  is  military  to  do  so.'  He  also  told  him  that  he  wished  a 
soldier's  burial  ;  and,  turning  to  me,  he  said,  '  I  do  not  like 
display,  but  I  think  this  appropriate,  don't  you  ?  '  I  replied 
that  I  did.  He  afterwards  enlarged  upon  the  subject,  say 
ing,  '  1  have  lived  a  soldier,  I  die  a  soldier,  I  wish  to  be 
buried  as  a  soldier.'  He  wanted  the  papers  from  Sadler. 
I  sent  for  them  and  obtained  them. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    DWIGHT.  207 

"  It  was  determined  to  try  to  move  him  to  Boonesboro'. 
I  had  already  sent  for  an  ambulance  before  Colonel  Andrews 
came.  When  it  arrived  we  lifted  him  upon  the  stretcher 
into  it,  but  at  the  first  movement  of  the  ambulance  the  pain 
was  so  intense  that  we  had  to  cease  the  attempt.  We  took 
him  out,  and  replaced  the  stretcher  in  its  old  place  in  the 
garden  of  the  hospital. 

"  I  found  that  he  could  be  moved  only  on  the  stretcher, 
so  I  sent  for  a  detail  of  men  at  our  wagon  camp,  some  miles 
distant.  While  waiting  for  them  he  said  but  little,  only 
adverting  now  and  then  to  some  item  of  business  for  the 
regiment  which  he  wished  attended  to.  I  lay  down  beside 
him." 

At  this  time  he  was  joined  by  Lieutenant  James 
Kent  Stone,  of  the  regiment,  who  afterwards  wrote 
to  his  father  *  as  follows  :  — 

"  1  watched  by  the  side  of  Colonel  Dwight,  on  the  ground 
among  the  wounded,  on  the  night  after  the  battle,  and  the 
next  day  I  helped  carry  him  three  or  four  miles  on  a 
stretcher,  and  helped  place  him  in  the  bed  where  he  died. 
As  I  sat  by  him  in  the  night  he  took  my  hand,  and  talked 
with  me  for  quite  a  long  time.  He  said  he  hoped  to  go 
home  once  more,  and  see  his  friends,  and  talk  with  you, 
before  he  died.  He  tried  to  look  on  the  bright  side,  to  speak 
in  an  earthly  way ;  still,  he  was  prepared  calmly  to  meet  the 
worst,  and  was  ready  to  die  there  where  he  was.  He  looked 
upon  you  as  his  minister,  and  wished  me  to  give  you  his 
last  message,  if  he  never  saw  you.  I  will  render  his  words 
as  nearly  as  I  can.  He  was  ready  to  die.  He  looked  back 
upon  the  past  with  many  regrets  for  failings  and  for  misused 
opportunities,  yet  still,  with  the  self-respect  of  a  man  who 
has  tried,  on  the  whole,  to  do  his  best ;  as  for  the  future, 

**  Rev.  John  S.  Stone,  D.  D.,  then  rector  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Brookline, 
Massachusetts. 


2C8  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   D WIGHT. 

there  was  but  one  hope  ;  no  putting  forward  of  one's  own 
claims,  but  reliance  on  the  merits  of  Another.  i  You  know 
what  I  mean,'  said  he.  When  he  had  finished,  wishing  to 
go  to  sleep,  he  took  a  drink  of  water  from  me,  and  pressing 
my  hand,  said,  '  Good  night,  dear  boy.  I  hope  your  future 
will  be  as  bright  as  it  promises  and  ought  to  be.' 

"  The  men  admired  Wilder  D  wight  more  than  any  other 
officer  in  the  regiment.  They  talk  often  of  how  he  rode 
along  on  the  battle-field,  laughing  and  cheering,  rallying 
them  on.  Hal  *  and  I  feel  that  the  one  great  friend  we  had 
in  the  regiment  is  gone.  All  are  kind,  but  there  was  none 
so  true  as  the  Colonel." 

Chaplain  Quint  continues  :  — 

"  After  our  men  arrived  it  was  too  late  to  move  him  any 
distance  in  the  darkness.  I  sent  for  an  ambulance,  satisfied 
that  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  place  him  inside  for  the 
night,  where  he  would  be  sheltered  from  the  dews.  When 
the  ambulance  arrived  wre  carried  him  to  it,  having  placed 
it  in  a  good  position,  and  arranged  it  as  well  as  possible. 
The  men  lay  around  it,  and  he  was  well  sheltered.  At  day 
break  we  lifted  him  from  the  ambulance,  and  Dr.  Leland 
dressed  his  wounds." 

Lieutenant  Stone  again  writes  :  — 

"  When  his  wounds  were  dressed  he  examined  them  in  a 
most  cool,  naive  manner.  Looking  at  the  hole  through  the 
forearm,  he  said,  '  Now  that 's  a  very  neat  little  wound  ; 
a  proper  wound  ;  but  the  other  (pointing  to  his  thigh)  won't 
do  so  well/  By  this  time  Dr.  Leland  had  found  a  farmer, 
named  Thomas,  who  owned  a  substantial  house  f  about 

*  Henry  Van  Dyke  Stone,  a  younger  brother  of  Lieutenant  Stone.  Eager 
to  serve  their  country,  these  young  men  waited  not  for  commissions,  but  has 
tened  to  join  the  Massachusetts  Second  as  privates  during  the  dark  days  of 
August,  1862,  which  immediately  followed  the  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain. 

t  When,  four  years  later,  friends  of  Colonel  D  wight  visited  this  house,  and 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGIIT.  299 

three  miles  off,  where  the  Colonel  could  have  a  good  bed 
and  be  well  cared  for.  It  was  determined  to  carry  him 
thither.  Twelve  men  from  the  new  recruits  were  detailed 
for  the  purpose.  He  divided  them  into  six  parties,  who 
relieved  each  other  by  turns.  During  the  journey  of  three 
miles  and  a  half  he  called  out  the  reliefs  himself.  At  one 
time  one  of  the  third  relief  carelessly  stumbled.  It  jarred 
him  very  much,  and  he  said,  '  Third  relief,  to  the  rear ! 
Now,  boys,  put  on  my  best  team.'  We  were  obliged,  in  one 
place,  to  ford  a  rapid  stream  about  two  hundred  feet  broad. 
It  must  have  caused  the  Colonel  great  pain  in  crossing,  but 
he  did  not  show  it  at  all  outwardly.  He  was  generally 
silent,  but  he  now  and  then  spoke  pleasantly  to  the  men, 
asking  them  their  names  and  occupations.  Once  he  asked 
us  if  we  had  had  any  breakfast.  Upon  our  answering  no, 
he  said,  '  Ah  !  young  soldiers.  An  old  soldier  would  never 
have  left  his  wagon-camp  with  his  haversack  empty.'  One 
incident  I  must  not  forget.  As  we  were  passing  through 
a  piece  of  woods  we  met  a  man  with  a  Rebel  flag  which  had 
been  captured  the  day  before  by  one  of  our  regiments. 
Rupert  Sadler  got  him  to  show  it  to  the  Colonel.  It  was 
the  State  flag  of  the  First  Texas.  The  names  of  the  various 
battles  in  which  it  had  been  borne  were  inscribed  on  it. 
Colonel  Dwight  read  off  the  names  :  Seven  Pines,  White  Oak 
Swamp,  Ethan's  Landing,  Gaines's  Farm,  Malvern's  Hill, 
<fcc.  As  the  Colonel  read  the  last  name  Hal  called  out,  in 

learned  from  Mr.  Thomas's  own  lips  that  he  was  a  whole-souled  Union  man, 
they  told  him  that  they  were  grateful  to  know  that  Colonel  Dwight  did  not  die 
under  the  roof  of  a  Rebel.  He  replied  :  "  I  think  it  most  likely  that  if  he  had 
been  taken  to  any  house  nearer  the  battle-field  than  mine  it  would  have  been 
to  a  Rebel's.  I  was  almost  alone  here  as  a  Union  man  through  the  war;  but 
when  they  threatened  me  with  the  loss  of  my  property,  I  always  told  them  I  'd 
never  be  afraid  to  stand  by  the  flag." 

Mr.  Thomas  was,  withal,  a  good  Christian,  and  did  not  omit  to  mention  that 
morning  and  evening  prayer  ascended  from  his  dwelling  during  that  day  and 
night  of  suffering.  In  giving  his  religious  views,  he  said,  "  I  belong  to  the 
United  Brethren."  It  was  evident  that  he  was  of  the  Good  Samaritan  order, 
who  would  find  a  brother  in  any  one  to  whom  he  could  do  good. 


300  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT. 

the  same  tone  of  voice,  '  BoonsboroV  i  Good  for  that  man  ! ' 
cried  the  Colonel ;  '  if  I  knew  who  he  was  I  'd  give  him  a 
dollar.'  But  Hal  kept  still.  At  one  time  one  of  the  men 
asked  where  the  rest  of  the  regiment  was.  Colonel  D  wight 
called  out,  '  Who  asked  for  the  Second  Regiment  ?  I  '11  tell 
you  where  the  Second  was  yesterday.  In  the  foremost  front 
of  the  battle  fighting  like  men ;  and  we  drove  them,  boys, 
drove  them  ! ' 

Drum-Major  Kesselhuth,  of  the  Second  Kegiment, 
wrote  to  a  friend  after  the  death  of  Colonel  Dwight 
as  follows  :  — 

u  I  was  with  Colonel  Dwight,  and  helped  to  dress  his 
wounds.  The  morning  after  the  fight,  while  going  to  join 
my  regiment  with  my  drum-and-fife  corps,  which  had  been  at 
work  with  myself  in  the  hospitals,  we  met  him,  lying  on  a 
stretcher,  on  his  way  to  Boonesboro'.  He  stopped  us,  and 
requested,  as  a  last  favor,  that  we  would  play  him  the  Star 
Spangled  Banner  once  more.  As  we  played,  he  raised  him 
self  up,  suffering  terribly,  for  he  was  mortally  wounded. 
When  we  had  finished  he  thanked  us  ;  and,  repeating  the  last 
line  of  the  song,  he  said,  '  I  hope  that  glorious  old  flag  will 
wave  over  this  whole  country  again.  So  may  it  be.  So 
shall  it  be.' 

u  He  died  a  true  patriot.  Would  to  God  the  whole  army 
was  officered  by  such  men  as  he  !  " 

Chaplain  Quint  says  :  — 

"  On  the  morning  after  the  battle,  when  the  men  were 
carrying  him  to  the  house  where  he  died,  as  we  passed  the 
Fifteenth  Massachusetts  Regiment,  which  had  been  badly 
cut  up,  and  was  drawn  back  by  itself  near  the  hospital,  he 
asked  to  have  the  flag  waved  again  before  his  dying  eyes. 
During  the  journey,  if  water  was  given  him,  or  any  other 
service  rendered,  his  old  '  thank  you '  was  never  omitted. 
Indeed,  the  night  before  in  the  garden,  he  repeatedly  sent  his 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   DWIGHT.  301 

servant  and  others  to  relieve  the  poor  wounded  men  around 
him,  while  in  pain  himself;  it  was  like  him.  On  the  journey, 
it  was  found  necessary  to  make  two  long  rests." 

Lieutenant  Stone  continues  :  — 

"  It  was  between  one  and  two  o'clock  when  we  reached 
Mr.  Thomas's  house.  It  was  a  brick  building,  airy  and 
comfortable.  We  carried  the  Colonel  into  a  bedroom.  As 
he  was  very  much  fatigued  by  the  journey,  we  left  him 
awhile  to  rest.  In  a  short  time  we  were  called  in  to  help  lift 
him  into  bed.  By  following  his  own  suggestions,  we  suc 
ceeded  in  placing  him  in  bed  without  his  suffering  in  the 
process.  I  could  see  that  lie  had  failed  very  much  since 
the  morning.  He  was  very  pale,  and  his  eyes  sunken.  As 
we  lifted  him  he  said,  '  Now,  boys,  steady  and  true  !  steady 
and  true ! '  These  words  he  repeated  a  great  many  times. 
Having  arranged  him  comfortably,  we  at  once  turned  to  leave 
the  room ;  but  he  roused  himself  and  said,  '  Wait  a  minute, 
boys  ;  you  've  taken  good  care  of  me,  and  I  thank  you  very 
much.  God  bless  you ! '  This  was  the  last  I  saw  of  our 
dear  Colonel.  We  then  partook  of  a  dinner  which  the 
Colonel  had  promised  us  while  we  were  carrying  him." 

"  That  afternoon,"  writes  Chaplain  Quint,  "  he  suffered 
considerably  ;  the  pain  in  the  limb  was  great.  The  next 
morning  I  had  no  thought  but  that  he  would  live  several 
days,  although  he  was  very  weak  ;  he  seemed  quiet ;  the 
blinds  were  kept  closed,  and  I  allowed  no  one  to  enter. 
But  he  felt  that  he  should  not  see  any  of  his  family.  He 
spoke  of  it,  and  of  the  time  required,  and  spoke  of  the  prob 
ability  of  William's  being  near.  In  the  morning  he  sent  a 
despatch  asking  his  father  to  hasten.  This  was  the  third. 
The  first  I  found  he  had  sent  the  first  day,  as  I  was  writing 
one  myself.  The  second  was  for  a  surgeon.  '  They  tell 
me,'  said  he,  '  that  I  may  recover.  I  do  not  believe  it,  but 
still  it  is  my  duty  to  leave  nothing  undone.'  Various  little 


302  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT. 

matters  he  had  seen  to.  Some  delicacies  came  from  Fred 
erick,  and  he  sent  thanks  for  them.  Letters  were  brought, 
which  he  read.  About  ten  he  seemed  considerably  weaker  ; 
but  it  was  not  until  near  noon  that  a  marked  change 
took  place.  I  was  in  the  kitchen  directing  the  mistress 
of  the  house  as  to  the  preparation  of  beef-tea  from  a  pe 
culiar  jelly.  John,  his  faithful  servant,  who  was  with  him, 
came  to  me  and  said,  '  The  Colonel  is  wanting  you  quick, 
sir.'  I  went  in,  instantly  saw  a  change,  and  took  his  lifted 
hand. 

"  After  looking  me  earnestly  in  the  face,  '  Chaplain,'  said 
he,  '  I  cannot  distinguish  your  features  ;  what  more  you 
have  to  say  to  me,  say  now.'  (I  had,  of  course,  remembered 
his  dying  condition,  and  conversed  accordingly.)  I  said, 
4  Colonel,  do  you  trust  in  God  ?  '  He  answered  with  ready 
firmness  and  cheerfulness,  4  I  do?  i  And  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  your  Saviour? '  '  I  do.'  <  Then,'  said  I,  '  there  is 
no  need  of  saying  more.'  I  said  a  few  words  of  prayer  over 
him,  with  a  blessing,  after  which  his  own  lips  moved  in 
prayer,  and  he  added  audibly,  '  Amen.'  Then  I  said,  '  Now 
what  shall  I  say  to  your  mother  ?  '  He  answered,  with  his 
whole  face  lighted  up,  4  My  mother  !  Tell  her  I  do  love  my 
mother  (he  emphasized  every  word).  Tell  her  I  do  trust  in 
Cf-odj  I  do  trust  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  Nothing  else.'  No  more 
did  he  say  then.  He  was  soon  sinking.  The  last  was  a  few 
minutes  later,  and  about  fifteen  minutes  before  his  death, 
when  he  said,  <  0,  my  dear  mother  ! '  About  twenty-five 
minutes  past  twelve  he  died  ;  so  peacefully  that  we  could 
hardly  tell  the  time. 

"  He  died,  as  he  had  lived,  a  brave,  gallant,  noble  man, 
a  hero  and  a  Christian  ;  cheerful  to  the  last,  considerate, 
happy.     When  he  breathed  his  last,  every  face,  of  soldiers 
as  well  as  officers,  was  wet  with  tears. 

"  Colonel  Andrews  had  sent  him  word  of  our  success  in 
the  battle.  '  It  is  a  glorious  time  to  die ! '  was  his  joyful 
exclamation." 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D  WIGHT.  303 

"  So  died,"  writes  Colonel  Andrews,  u  one  of  the  most 
faithful,  brave,  unselfish,  and  devoted  officers  of  our  army. 
He  was,  I  think,  the  officer  most  beloved  and  respected 
throughout  the  regiment,  by  officers  and  men.  His  conduct 
as  an  officer  and  as  a  man  was  noble.  On  the  battle-field 
he  appeared  to  me  to  retain  his  self-possession  most  com 
pletely,  and  to  have  his  soul  bent  upon  doing  his  best  to 
uphold  the  honor  of  his  country's  flag.  He  showed  no 
consciousness  of  danger,  although  there  was  nothing  rash 
in  his  conduct.  He  was  uniformly  kind  to  every  one.  How 
we  all  feel  here  in  the  regiment  you  can  perhaps  imagine. 
It  is  not  the  same  regiment.  His  friends  have  every  conso 
lation  possible.  His  memory  is  their  pride." 

Lieutenant  Henry  V.  D.  Stone  wrote  of  him  at 
this  time  :  — 

"  Dear  Colonel  D  wight !  he  was  the  best  man  in  the 
world  ;  too  brave  for  an  officer.  He  was  always  in  the 
front,  cheering  on  the  men,  and  all  the  men  loved  him  as 
they  never  loved  any  other. 

"  I  wrote  the  telegram  sent  by  Colonel  Dwight  from  the 
field,  and  I  was  sent  with  Kent  and  others  to  take  him  from 
the  field  to  the  house  where  he  died."  * 

"  Make  haste  to  join  me,"  he  said,  by  telegram,  as 
he  felt  his  life  fast  ebbing  away  ;  and  every  effort 
was  made  to  reach  him,  only  to  learn  that  it  was  too 
late.  At  his  own  request,  urged  in  the  dying  hour, 
Chaplain  Quint,  who  had  watched  him  through  suf 
fering  and  through  death,  accompanied  his  body  to 
Massachusetts,  and  saw  it  borne  in  safety  to  his  home 
in  Brookline. 

#  In  a  spirit  no  less  heroic  than  that  of  his  beloved  Colonel,  this  "  modest 
and  brave  officer"  fell  in  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  on  the  3d  of  July,  1863,  at 
the  early  age  of  nineteen  years  and  eleven  months. 


304  LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER    D WIGHT. 

Changed  as  his  countenance  was  by  death,  there 
still  rested  upon  his  lips  the  same  sweet  expression 
of  content  which  they  had  been  seen  to  wear  when 
he  said,  "  The  last  year  has  been  the  richest  of  my 
life."  His  silent  presence  brought  with  it  no  sugges 
tion  of  the  horrors  of  the  battle-field,  but  only  the 
thought  that,  as  he  lay  there  alone  between  the  two 
armies, "  angels  came  and  ministered  unto  him." 

His  family,  on  hearing  of  his  death,  had  thought 
only  of  laying  him  quietly  and  without  unusual  cere 
mony  in  the  beautiful  cemetery  of  his  native  town ; 
but  on  learning  his  request  for  a  soldier's  burial,  their 
one  desire  was  to  carry  out  his  wish  as  perfectly  as 
possible. 

At  the  call  of  the  Governor  of  the  State  a  detach 
ment  from  six  companies  of  the  Massachusetts  Forty- 
fourth,  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Edward  C.  Cabot,  acted  as  military  escort  on  the  day 
of  his  burial.  On  that  day,  Thursday,  September 
25,  even  the  agonizing  sense  of  loss  gave  way  for  the 
time  to  gratitude,  that  it  was  one  of  autumn's  bright 
est,  and  that  everything  conspired  to  enable  his 
friends  to  do  for  him  even  as  he  would  have  done  for 
any  brother  soldier  who  had  asked  it  at  his  hands. 

He  had  said  that  he  did  not  like  display,  and  it 
was  felt,  at  the  time,  that  nothing  like  display  entered 
into  the  occasion.  The  ceremonies,  in  all  their  details, 
seemed  an  honest  and  tender  expression  of  heartfelt 
feeling  in  contrast  to  an  unmeaning  pageant. 

To  some  who  witnessed  the  scene,  the  most  strik 
ing  feature  was  the  expression  of  grief  that  was  visi 
ble  upon  the  countenances  of  all  who  crowded  the 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT.  305 

road  as  the  procession  moved.  Others  were  most 
impressed  by  seeing  men  advanced  in  years  and  high 
in  station,  to  whom  he  had  looked  up  with  deferential 
respect,  now  come  forth  to  do  him  reverence. 

From  the  home  made  desolate  by  his  death,  with 
"  wail  of  saddest  music  "  he  was  borne,  "  in  slow  pro 
cession,  winding  through  the  ways  once  so  familiar  to 
his  feet "  *  to  the  church  where  he  had  been  a  devout 
worshipper,  and  where  he  had  learned  to  love  the 
sublime  burial-service  which  now  fell  with  soothing 
power  upon  hearts  bowed  with  the  deepest  sorrow. 
No  more  sincere  mourners  were  there  present  than 
the  children  of  the  neighborhood,  whose  young  hearts 
he  had  won  by  the  overflowing  love  and  kindness  of 
his  nature,  and  who  now  brought  him  the  tribute 
of  their  sobs  and  tears. 

One  of  the  most  affecting  incidents  of  the  day  was 
the  arrival,  at  a  late  hour,  of  the  band  of  the  Massa 
chusetts  Second,  which  had  been  recently  discharged 
from  service.  These  men,  who  in  the  army  had 
experienced  his  kindness  and  his  care,  hastened  from 
various  distant  points  to  the  scene,  anxious  to  follow 
him  to  the  grave.  They  arrived  in  season  to  join 
the  procession  on  its  way  from  the  church  to  the 
Brookline  cemetery,  where  the  concluding  religious 
services  were  held. 

Chaplain  Quint  then  spoke,  from  the  inspiration  of 
the  occasion,  words  eloquent  with  love  and  grief, 
which  he  found  it  impossible  afterwards  to  recall. 
Some  of  them  remained  imperfectly  in  the  memory 
of  those  who  heard  them  as  follows  :  — 

*  See  Appendix  X. 


306  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

"  Out  of  the  din  of  battle,  out  of  the  smoke-shroud  of 
death,  out  of  the  cheers  of  victory,  I  bring  the  tears  of  the 
Second  Regiment  of  Massachusetts  braves,  for  one  of  the 
noblest,  the  bravest  heroes  of  them  all. 

"  Yon  throng  of  neighbors  is  the  tribute  to  him  as  a  gen 
erous,  honorable,  beloved  man. 

"  The  words  of  his  revered  professional  associates  have 
borne  tribute  to  his  ready  insight,  his  strong  reason,  and  his 
cultivated  mind. 

"But  five  hundred  miles  away,  near  the  battle-ground 
stained  with  their  and  with  his  blood,  where,  before  I  left 
in  charge  of  this  sacred  trust,  the  dead  faces  lay  upturned 
to  the  sky,  the  wounded  lay  helpless,  the  dying  lay  gasping, 
do  they  weep,  who,  in  the  roughest  shock  of  battle,  were  like 
iron. 

"  From  them  have  I  come  these  many  miles,  to  them 
shall  I  instantly  return  when  the  work  they  have  given  me 
to  do  is  ended." 

Chaplain  Quint  then  spoke  of  the  devotion  of  his 
friend  to  the  regiment  to  which  he  was  wedded,  and 
which  he  had  helped  to  make  the  brave  and  veteran 
corps  it  was  ;  and  of  the  bright  faith  and  Christian 
peace  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  he  suffered  and  died. 

In  closing,  he  took  leave  of  the  lifeless  form  which 
lay  shrouded  by  the  American  flag  before  him,  say 
ing:— 

"  My  comrade  in  the  camp  and  in  the  field,  in  heat  and 
in  cold,  in  hunger  and  in  thirst,  by  day  and  by  night,  in 
many  a  weary  march,  in  many  a  wakeful  bivouac,  farewell 
until  the  reveill£  of  the  resurrection  morn." 

With  the  chant,  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in 
the  Lord,"  and  the  concluding  prayers  of  the  burial- 


LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OF    WILDER   DWIGHT.  307 

service,  followed  by  the  military  honors  belonging  to 
his  rank,  and  the  music  of  the  Star  Spangled  Banner, 
to  which  his  heart  had  leaped  even  in  the  hour  of 
death,  these  interesting  exercises  closed. 

Some  weeks  later  his  body  was  tenderly  removed 
to  a  cemetery  of  an  adjoining  town,  of  which  he  had 
once  said, "  My  favorite  spot,  Forest  Hills." 

The  only  one  of  his  brothers  who  was  absent  on 
the  day  of  his  burial  was  Captain  Howard  Dwight, 
then  of  the  Fifth  Missouri  Cavalry,  in  the  Department 
of  the  West.  He  had  the  trial  of  learning  at  a  dis 
tance  from  his  home,  amidst  labors  arduous  and  severe, 
the  loss  he  had  sustained.  Then  he  wrote  :  — 

"  ....  I  cannot  think  of  it  as  real  yet ;  the  void  it 
makes  in  the  home  that  is  almost  constantly  in  my  mind  is 
so  great.  I  had  seen  by  telegram  in  one  of  the  papers  that 
Wilder  was  wounded,  but,  somehow,  had  not  for  a  moment 
felt  it  possible  that  he  could  be  lost  to  us.  To  me  he  has 
ever  been  the  most  affectionate  brother,  and  truest  friend 
when  I  have  most  needed  aid. 

"  It  is  a  great  comfort  to  me,  however,  to  reflect  that  his 
death  was  one  which  had  no  horrors  for  him,  and  to  the 
possibility  of  which  he  looked  forward  so  cheerfully ;  and  I 
glory  in  his  career  as  a  soldier,  though  the  end  is  so  hard 
to  bear.  I  need  not  assure  you  how  fully  you  and  father 
and  all  at  home  have  my  sympathy  in  this  affliction,  and 
how  much  I  regret  that  I  cannot  be  at  home  to  be  of  some 
use  or  comfort  to  you. 

"  I  feel  that  I  can  do  nothing  better,  however,  than,  where 
I  am,  to  imitate,  as  closely  as  I  may,  the  bright  example 
that  Wilder  has  given  me." 

***** 

Alas !  too  closely  did  he  follow  him  in  the  path  of 
danger  and  of  death.  Six  months  later,  the  grave 


308  LIFE   AND    LETTERS    OP   WILDER   D WIGHT. 

which  had  so  recently  closed  over  the  body  of  Wilder 
was  opened  anew  to  receive  the  body  of  Howard. 

Animated  by  the  same  spirit,  they  fell  in  the  same 
cause,  giving  their  lives  to  their  country. 

And  now,  under  "  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock,"  "  in 
the  hope  of  a  joyful  resurrection,"  — 

"  They  sleep  beneath  the  sod, 
With  all  the  stars  of  God 
To  watch  their  grave." 


We  close  this  record  with  the  following  treasured 
words  from  Mr.  Justice  Hoar's  reply  to  the  Suffolk 
Bar  at  the  first  meeting  of  the  Supreme  Court  after 
the  death  of  Wilder  Dwight :  - 

"  Tender  and  loving  son,  firm  friend,  true  soldier,  Chris 
tian  hero,  we  give  thee  up  to  thy  fame  !  For  you,  life  has 
been  enough. 

'  Goodness  and  greatness  are  not  means,  but  ends.' 

For  us,  there  is  left  the  precious  legacy  of  his  life.  Brethren, 
it  is  well  that  we  should  pause,  as  we  are  entering  upon  our 
stated  and  accustomed  duties,  to  draw  inspiration  from  such 
an  example.  For  who  can  think  of  that  fair  and  honorable 
life,  and  of  the  death  which  that  young  soldier  died,  without 
a  new  sense  of  what  is  worthiest  in  human  pursuits,  —  a 
stronger  devotion  to  duty,  a  warmer  ardor  of  patriotism, 
a  surer  faith  in  immortality ! " 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX    I. 

ON  Major  D wight's  arrival  in  Brookline,  while  a 
prisoner  on  parole,  in  June,  1862,  the  wish  was 
expressed  by  some  of  the  citizens  that  he  would  meet 
them  at  the  Town  Hall. 

To  the  friend  by  whom  this  wish  was  communi 
cated  to  him  he  addressed  the  following  letter  :  — 

"  BROOKLINE,  June  9th,  1862. 

"  DEAR  SIR,  —  The  honor  of  a  public  meeting  or  recep 
tion  by  my  friends  in  Brookline  is  one  that  I  must  decline. 
I  appreciate  only  too  deeply  the  kindness  and  friendship 
which  prompt  the  offer.  Such  a  meeting  will  be,  or  seem 
to  be,  a  formal  honor  paid  me  by  the  town.  I  have  done 
nothing  to  deserve  it,  and  ought  not  to  receive  it.  I  cannot 
seem,  by  its  acceptance,  to  claim,  or  admit  the  claim,  of  any 
personal  merit  or  distinction. 

"  The  Second  Massachusetts  Regiment,  to  which  I  belong, 
succeeded,  I  hope,  in  doing  its  duty  under  trying  circum 
stances.  It  is  at  this  moment  in  the  field  recovering  the 
ground  which  it  honorably  yielded.  But  I  am  here,  with 
empty  hand,  incapable  of  bearing  arms  with  it. 

"  I  wait  only  to  be  free  again  to  return.  Now  is  not  the 
time  when  I  can  feel  it  fit  that  I  should  be  the  object  of 
public  praise  or  congratulation. 

"  Other  reasons,  which  I  need  not  state,  unite  to  lead  me 
to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  my  duty  to  decline  the  honor 
which  you  so  generously  offer. 

"  Very  respectfully,  your  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

"  WILDER  DWIGHT, 

Major  Second  Mass.  Voh. 
"THOMAS  PAKSONS,  ESQ.,  Brookline." 


312  APPENDIX. 

A  number  of  his  fellow-townsmen  then  united  in 
requesting  his  acceptance  of  a  sword  as  a  token  of 
their  regard.  In  reply  he  wrote  as  follows  :  — 

"  BROOKLINE,  June  11,  1862. 

"  GENTLEMEN,  —  Your  gift  of  a  sword  gives  me  more 
pleasure  than  I  can  well  express.  It  comes  to  me  at  a  time 
when  any  recognition  by  my  friends  has  a  peculiar  value. 

"  I  welcome  it  as  an  expression  of  your  confidence  and 
good-will,  and  am  impatient  to  be  free  again  to  use  it  more 
fortunately,  I  hope,  than  the  one  it  replaces. 

"  It  is  my  earnest  prayer  that  I  may  be  able  to  bring  it 
back  to  you  with  honor. 

"  Your  obliged  friend, 

"  WILDER  DWIGHT, 
Major  Second  Regt.  Mass.  Vbls. 
"  To  THOMAS  LEE,  B.  F.  BAKER,  J.  S.  AMORT,  and  others." 

At  this  time  he  had  the  gratification  of  receiving 
a  sword  from  members  of  the  Class  of  1853,  for 
whom,  ever  since  his  college  days,  he  had  cherished 
a  cordial  friendship.  His  first  sword,  the  compelled 
surrender  of  which  at  Winchester  was,  to  him,  the 
most  painful  circumstance  attending  his  capture,  was 
presented  him  upon  the  occasion  of  his  appointment 
as  Major  of  the  Second  Massachusetts  Infantry,  by 
his  friend  and  former  associate,  Judge  Gray. 


APPENDIX    II. 

THE  following  is  extracted  from  a  letter  written, 
after  the  death  of  Wilder  Dwight,  by  one  *  who 
was  his  chosen  friend  at  Exeter,  and  who,  when  the 
time  of  his  own  departure  drew  near,  was  moved  by 
faithful  memories  of  the  past  to  pay  this  affectionate 
tribute  to  the  companion  of  his  boyhood  :  — 

"  .  .  .  .  Doubtless,  of  later  years,  Wilder  had  nearer 
friends  than  myself,  who  knew  far  more  than  I  of  what  his 
manhood  promised  and  achieved.  But  hardly  any  one  knew 
him  more  intimately  in  the  golden  hope  and  brightness  of 
boyhood  and  youth. 

"  From  the  day  he  entered  Exeter  Academy,  sixteen  years 
ago,  we  were  on  the  closest  terms  of  friendship.  We  be 
longed  to  different  classes,  but  that  did  not  separate  us  out 
of  school  hours.  We  walked  and  talked  and  read  together ; 
and  in  our  vacations  and  during  the  year  he  spent  at  West 
Point  our  letters  were  frequent  and  full.  I  have  no  pleas- 
anter  memory  of  the  dear  old  Exeter  days  than  their  asso 
ciations  with  him. 

"  Then,  as  always,  he  had  the  rare  combination  of  both 
intellectual  and  moral  clearness  of  vision,  common  sense, 
and  conscience.  He  was,  besides,  earnest,  kind,  cordial, 
and  so  even  his  elders  were  indebted  to  him  for  wisdom  to 
discern  and  courage  to  do  the  right.  I  see  now  the  bright, 
happy  face,  and  hear  the  hearty  laugh  of  those  days  of  our 
boyhood,  and  that  memory  will  never  vanish. 

*  Rev.  Theodore  Tebbets,  formerly  pastor  of  the  First  Church,  Medford, 
Massachusetts.  He  died  on  the  29th  of  January,  1863,  leaving  a  memory 
which  is  enshrined  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  him. 


314  APPENDIX. 

"  .  .  .  .  For  the  last  five  years  I  had  met  him  but  three 
times,  but  I  knew  what  he  was  doing,  and  rejoiced  in  learn 
ing  of  his  unexampled  but  deserved  success  ;  and  I  have 
had  ample  evidence,  in  the  touching  testimonials  that  have 
been  publicly  offered  to  his  memory,  that  all  the  beauty  and 
force,  all  the  sweetness  and  power,  of  his  boyhood's  character 
were  still  the  traits  of  his  noble  manhood.  .  ." 


APPENDIX    III. 

PROCEEDINGS   OF  THE   SUFFOLK  BAR 

UPON  THE  OCCASION  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  WILDER  DWIGHT, 
WITH  THE  REPLY  OF  THE   COURT. 


MEETING   OF   THE   BAR. 

ON  the  morning  of  the  24th  of  September,  1862, 
the  members  of  the  Bar  assembled  in  large  num 
bers  in  the  Law  Library  in  obedience  to  the  follow 
ing  call :  — 

"  The  members  of  the  Suffolk  Bar  are  requested  to  meet 
in  the  Law  Library  on  Wednesday,  the  twenty-fourth  day 
of  September,  at  half  past  nine,  A.  M.,  for  the  purpose  of 
taking  measures  to  express  their  respect  for  the  memory 
of  their  late  associate,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Wilder  D wight. 

"  SIDNEY  BARTLETT, 
BENJAMIN  R.  CURTIS, 
JOSIAH  G.  ABBOTT, 
RICHARD  H.  DANA,  JR." 

Mr.  Bartlett  was  called  to  the  chair,  and  Mr.  C.  F. 
Blake  was  chosen  Secretary  of  the  meeting. 

Mr.  Abbott,  Mr.  F.  E.  Parker,  and  Mr,  Gray  were 
appointed  a  committee  to  prepare  resolutions,  and 
reported  the  following  :  — 

u  Resolved,  That  while  we  bow  with  submission  to  the 
Divine  Will,  that  has  taken  from  us  our  friend  and  associate, 
Wilder  D  wight,  we  render  thanks  for  the  example  of  his 
manly  life  and  the  consolation  of  his  heroic  death. 


316  APPENDIX. 

"  Resolved,  That  in  the  brief  period  during  which  our 
brother  practised  at  this  bar  we  had  learned  to  respect  his 
judgment,  to  admire  his  accomplishments,  and  to  expect 
from  his  sound  sense,  and  his  rare  aptitude  for  the  sudden 
dangers  of  the  trial  and  the  argument,  the  attainment  of  the 
highest  honors  of  the  profession. 

"  Resolved^  That  we  remember  with  pride  that  he  was  the 
first  citizen  of  the  Republic  to  tender  to  the  President  a 
regiment  for  the  war,  and  the  first  member  of  this  bar  to 
devote  himself  to  the  support  of  the  Constitution  and  the 
Flag ;  and  that  amid  the  perils  of  the  battle  and  the  hard 
ships  of  the  camp  he  won  the  name  of  a  true  soldier,  trusted 
by  his  superiors,  beloved  and  respected  by  his  men. 

"  Resolved^  That  we  commend  to  the  young  men  of  Mas 
sachusetts  the  life  and  death  of  Wilder  Dwight  as  a  noble 
example.  His  short  life  was  long  enough  to  afford  us  a 
pattern  of  virtue,  of  courage,  of  high  resolve,  and  of  lofty 
achievement.  It  is  fortunate  for  his  country  that  he  has 
lived.  He  has  not  died  too  soon  to  leave  a  memory  precious 
to  his  companions,  and  worthy  to  be  perpetuated. 

"  Resolved^  That  these  resolutions  be  presented  to  the 
Supreme  Judicial  Court,  with  a  request  that  they  may  be 
entered  upon  its  records ;  and  that  a  copy  of  them  be  trans 
mitted  to  the  family  of  our  brother  as  an  expression  of  our 
profound  sympathy." 

Mr.  Abbott  then  moved  the  adoption  of  the  reso 
lutions,  and  spoke  at  some  length  in  their  support. 

He  was  followed  by  Mr.  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  who 
said  that  nearly  thirty  years  had  passed  since  he 
attended  a  meeting  of  the  Suffolk  Bar,  but  that  he 
could  not  refrain  from  returning  to  express  his  sense 
of  the  rare  qualities  of  the  citizen  and  soldier  whose 
memory  they  had  met  to  honor.  He  had  known 
Colonel  Dwight  in  Europe  under  circumstances  which 


APPENDIX.  317 

had  impressed  him  with  the  varied  acquirements  and 
bright  social  qualities  of  his  young  countryman. 
And  an  intimate  intercourse  in  America  had  in 
creased  that  estimate  of  his  character  and  capacity. 
Mr.  Quincy  concluded  by  reading  a  portion  of  a  letter 
from  his  son,  a  captain  in  Colonel  Dwight's  regiment. 
Both  the  young  men  had  left  the  Suffolk  Bar  at  the 
same  time  to  defend  the  Constitution  of  their  coun 
try  before  the  high  court  of  final  appeal  where  the 
Judge  of  Nations  is  arbiter. 

An  extract  from  this  letter,  written  after  General 
Banks's  retreat  from  Virginia,  in  May,  1862,  is  as 
follows :  "  Our  Major  (afterwards  Lieutenant-Colonel) 
D wight  has  won  for  himself  the  heartfelt  admiration 
of  the  regiment.  His  indomitable  pluck  and  perfect 
sang-froid  were  beautiful.  I  watched  him  on  Satur 
day  and  Sunday  with  wonder  and  delight.  Bullets 
and  death  he  utterly  despised  and  ignored.  In  short, 
he  is  a  genuine  hero." 

Mr.  Dana  then  addressed  the  meeting  as  follows :  — 

"  MR.  CHAIRMAN,  —  The  sight  of  so  many  of  our  brethren 
reminds  me  that  the  last  meeting  I  had  the  privilege  of 
attending  was  when  we  came  together  to  mourn  the  sudden 
extinguishment  of  that  dazzling  luminary  of  the  forum,  the 
bar,  and  the  platform,  which  had  so  long  cheered  and  in 
fatuated  us  all. 

"  Rufus  Choate  died  in  the  fulness  of  his  years  and  fame. 
That  light  went  out  as  it  was  declining  to  its  evening.  To 
day  we  meet  to  mourn  one  who  has  fallen  in  the  flush  of 
youth,  —  a  star  but  little  risen  above  its  eastern  horizon,  not 
yet  a  familiar  sight,  not  yet  recognized  by  all  as  an  influ 
ence.  This  is  a  contrast,  Sir ;  but,  alas  !  how  much  deeper 
is  the  contrast  in  the  place  and  manner  of  their  death  ! 


318  APPENDIX. 

Eufus  Choate  died,  indeed,  on  foreign  soil,  and  under  a 
foreign  flag,  but  beneath  a  friendly  roof,  with  kindly  atten 
tions,  and  in  the  quiet  of  profound  peace.  Our  young 
brother  fell  in  the  midst  of  the  uproar  and  carnage  of  a 
field  of  battle  ;  not  on  foreign  soil,  but  on  the  soil  of  the 
old  thirteen  States,  beneath  our  own  flag,  almost  under  the 
shadow  of  the  Capitol,  not  by  the  hand  of  foreign  foes, 
but  of  vindictive  and  infuriate  brethren,  who  have  struck 
hands  —  parricidal  hands  —  against  our  common  parent, 
against  those  who  had  been,  and  desired  still  to  be,  their 
brethren. 

"  Who  would  have  dreamed,  sir,  when  so  little  while  ago 
Wilder  D  wight  stood  among  us  at  the  funeral  solemnities 
of  that  leader  of  our  bar,  so  eager  to  show  every  mark  of 
love  and  admiration,  but  not  claiming  a  place  among  those 
who  spoke,  —  who  would  have  dreamed,  in  that  hour  of  a 
peaceful  and  united  Republic,  that  we  should  be  bringing 
him  home  with  bell  and  burial  from  the  field  of  a  battle  of 
the  greatest  proportions,  fought  in  the  deadly  struggle  of 
civil  war ! 

"  But,  sir,  I  desire  to  speak  more  particularly  of  the  per 
sonal  qualities  of  our  brother.  I  cannot  say,  with  Mr. 
Abbott,  that  I  knew  him  intimately ;  but  I  knew  him  very 
well.  If  we  may  approach  with  that  freedom  which  all 
analysis  implies,  within  the  sacred  precinct  which  the  shadow 
of  death  forms  around  its  victims,  —  if  we  may  touch  so 
freely  one  whom  an  heroic  death  has  canonized,  —  I  would 
say,  as  an  honest  judgment,  that  his  most  marked  character 
istic  was  what  one  is  tempted  to  call  a  talent  for  success. 
He  had  that  combination  of  qualities  which  led  to  success 
in  whatever  he  undertook.  His  best  friends  may  well 
admit  that  you  can  find,  among  the  youth  of  this  city,  some 
who  excelled  him  in  that  variety  of  acquirements  which 
makes  the  accomplished  and  versatile  man  of  society. 
Neither  his  tastes  nor  his  powers  lay  in  that  direction.  He 
had  learned  in  the  schools  and  at  college  that  for  which 


APPENDIX.  319 

colleges  and  schools  are  most  valuable,  —  the  use  of  the 
instruments  which  men  must  employ  in  life.  His  love  was 
for  that  kind  of  intelligent  labor  which  looks  to  specific 
results. 

"  I  spoke  of  his  talent  for  success.  I  mean  that  he  had 
those  qualities  which  operated  like  a  specific  power  in  that 
direction.  He  had  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  himself,  and 
an  instinctive  knowledge  of  other  men.  He  adapted  his 
means  to  his  ends.  He  knew  what  he  was  suited  to  do, 
and  he  had  a  power  of  will,  a  faculty  of  concentration,  and 
patience,  perseverance,  and  confidence,  which  insured  suc 
cess.  He  allowed  no  waste.  He  was  as  far  as  possible  from 
anything  desultory.  When  this  war  broke  out,  he  deter 
mined  to  become  a  soldier.  His  friends  knew  he  would 
make  himself  one.  He  determined  to  offer  the  first  regi 
ment  of  three  years'  men  to  the  army,  and  he  did  so.  He 
went  to  Washington  to  obtain  advantages  and  opportunities 
most  difficult  to  secure  ;  but  we  felt  that  he  would  succeed, 
and  he  did  succeed.  I  remember  seeing  him  at  the  State- 
House,  seeking  to  accomplish  certain  things  for  his  regiment 
then  most  difficult  of  attainment.  He  had  the  cheerful  and 
satisfied  look  of  one  who  had  succeeded,  yet  he  had  but 
begun.  A  common  friend  whom  I  met  —  a  member  of  the 
Governor's  staff — said  to  me,  4  It  is  hard  to  do,  but  it  is 
Wilder  D wight,  and  he  will  carry  it  through  '  ;  and  he  did. 
When  he  was  made  prisoner  at  Winchester,  and  the  Rebels 
were  taking  all  their  prisoners  to  Richmond,  he  determined 
not  to  go  to  Richmond,  and  he  did  not  go,  but  was  paroled. 
Some  of  us  know  the  sagacity  and  perseverance  by  which 
he  gained  his  point.  And  after  returning  to  his  regiment, 
and  receiving  that  ovation  which  has  been  so  touchingly 
described  by  Mr.  Abbott,  when  rough  men  cried  and  hugged 
him  in  their  arms,  he  set  about  getting  himself  exchanged  ; 
and  that,  too,  he  accomplished  speedily. 

"  But,  sir,  there  is  one  enemy  whom  no  man  can  conquer, 
the  last  enemy,  to  whom  we  all,  to-day  or  to-morrow,  must 


320  APPENDIX. 

yield.  Him  that  enemy,  to  our  limited  human  conceptions, 
seems  to  have  attacked  too  soon  and  too  early.  But  in  his 
short  life  he  has  helped  to  teach  us  many  lessons.  One 
lesson,  suited  to  the  needs  of  the  hour,  is  that  the  best  man 
makes  the  best  officer.  As  a  general  rule,  —  there  are 
many  noble  exceptions,  —  but  as  a  general  thing,  the  edu 
cated  man  is  the  best  in  command.  I  do  not  mean  by  the 
educated  man,  the  man  with  an  overloaded  memory,  but 
the  man  of  developed  powers,  enlarged  horizon,  intellect 
trained  to  comprehending  and  explaining,  and,  above  all, 
with  that  training  of  the  inner  man  which  gives  him,  from 
youth  up,  a  sense  of  his  own  dignity,  a  power  of  maintaining 
it,  and  a  respect  for  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others,  that 
training  to  high  notions  of  honor,  that  amenability  to  the 
point  of  honor,  which  —  I  would  say  it  in  the  confidence  of 
these  walls  —  is  the  spot  where  has  lain  the  deficiency  of  our 
public  men,  where  has  been  the  defect  with  too  large  a  part 
of  our  armies.  To  Wilder  D wight  the  point  of  honor  was 
paramount.  He  might  fall  in  battle,  or  perish  by  disease, 
he  might  risk  or  surrender  forever  all  that  life  can  promise, 
but  he  would  not,  could  not,  do  anything  questionable  in 
the  light  of  true  honor. 

"  Of  his  professional  prospects  when  he  left  us  for  the 
army  we  have  the  highest  evidence,  in  the  opinion  formed 
of  him  by  the  Court  and  his  seniors  at  the  Bar.  Of  his  ex 
traordinary  personal  gallantry  in  the  field,  noticeable  in  a 
regiment  of  gallant  men,  others  have  shown  to  us  the  con 
clusive  and  most  gratifying  proofs. 

He  is  gone !  He  is  gone,  with  Abbott  and  Lowell  and 
Putnam  and  Stearns,  with  Chandler  and  Perkins  and  Gary, 
with  —  no,  sir,  I  will  not  complete  the  bright  catalogue; 
these  names  call  back  too  many  sad  memories  —  with  that 
noble  army,  that  glorious  company,  that  goodly  fellowship, 
of  the  educated  young  men  of  Massachusetts,  who  have 
offered  their  lives  to  this  sacred  cause,  and  whose  offer  has 
been  accepted." 


APPENDIX.  321 

Mr.  Parker  then  said  :  — 

"  The  remarks  to  which  I  have  just  listened  induce  me, 
contrary  to  my  previous  intention,  to  bear,  in  few  words, 
my  testimony  of  affection  and  respect  to  the  memory  of 
Lieutenant-Colonel  D wight.  When  I  first  knew  him,  he 
was  at  school,  and  I  had  the  opportunity  of  observing  him 
as  he  grew  from  a  promising  boy  to  an  admirable  man.  It 
has  just  been  said  that  his  distinguishing  quality  was  his 
talent  for  success  ;  and  to  a  distant  observer  this  was  no 
doubt  true.  But  to  those  who  knew  him  familiarly,  the 
nature  of  the  success  which  he  sought  was  more  remarkable 
than  his  faculty  of  attaining  it.  When  he  left  college,  and 
was  to  choose  his  path  in  life,  it  was  in  his  power  to  take 
that  path  which  led  by  easy  and  rapid  steps  to  leisure,  social 
position,  and  abundant  wealth  ;  and  not  only  was  it  in  his 
power  to  choose  this  path,  but  it  was  the  one  selected  for 
him,  and  to  turn  from  which  needed  a  strong  exertion  of 
the  will.  Just  that  life  was  offered  to  him  which  is  to  a 
young  man  most  tempting  from  its  material  advantages,  and 
to  which  public  opinion  in  this  community,  at  that  time, 
pointed  as  promising  the  most  brilliant  prizes  of  life.  But 
he  had  the  elevation  of  purpose  to  prefer  the  honorable  toil 
of  our  profession,  because  it  required  intellectual  effort  and 
promised  the  noble  reward  of  intellectual  success.  He  en 
tered  upon  the  study  of  the  Law  with  the  ardor  and  energy 
of  a  strong  nature  ;  and  I  remember  how  he  regretted  his 
year  of  foreign  travel  to  which  Mr.  Quincy  has  just  alluded, 
because  it  placed  him  farther  from  the  attainment  of  the 
main  purpose  of  his  life.  How  steady  was  his  progress  to 
the  attainment  of  that  purpose,  and  how  rapid  his  steps  up 
the  difficult  ascent,  you  have  heard  from  those  best  placed 
to  observe  and  best  able  to  appreciate.  At  the  breaking  out 
of  the  war  he  had  everything  which  a  man  of  high  ambition 
most  desires  :  he  had  youth  and  health,  fortune  and  friends, 

a  profession  in  which  he  delighted,  the  practical   talents 
21 


322  APPENDIX. 

which  smooth  the  way  in  it,  and  the  confidence  in  himself 
which  made  labor  light.  But  when  the  trouble  of  our 
country  came,  he  thought  that  all  advantages  and  successes 
which  did  not  aid  her  were  to  be  trampled  under  foot.  He 
gave  up  to  his  country,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  all 
that  he  had  gained  and  all  that  he  was.  More  than  this,  he 
looked  the  dangers  of  his  new  profession  in  the  face,  not  fas 
cinated  by  its  glitter,  nor  drawn  from  weightier  thoughts  by 
the  sound  of  martial  music,  but  deliberately,  for  the  defence 
of  the  law,  and  the  support  of  a  cause  which  he  solemnly 
considered  to  be  just.  When  he  left  us  for  the  last  time,  he 
believed,  and  to  his  intimate  friends  expressed  his  belief, 
that  he  left  never  to  return.  It  is  this  elevation  of  purpose 
which  separates  Wilder  D wight  from  common  men,  and 
gives  him  his  true  title  to  immortality." 

Mr.  Gray  then  spoke  as  follows :  — 

"  I  feel  that  the  relation  which  I  held  to  Wilder  D  wight 
makes  it  fit  that  I  should  add  a  few  words  ;  though  I  would 
have  preferred  to  leave  it  with  those  who  speak  with  more 
weight  of  authority,  or  whose  words  are  more  expressive. 
To  all  that  has  been  said  in  his  praise  I  heartily  assent,  and 
would  repeat  it  more  forcibly  had  I  the  power. 

"  My  acquaintance  with  him  began  when,  introduced  by 
the  gentleman  who  has  just  spoken,  he  applied  to  enter  my 
office  as  a  student  when  I  was  about  to  form  a  connection 
in  practice  with  the  present  Mr.  Justice  Hoar.  I  had  occa 
sion  to  hear  all  his  arguments  upon  questions  of  law  before 
the  Supreme  Court.  And  after  he  had  become  my  partner, 
it  was  in  his  room  that  the  first  steps  were  taken  toward 
getting  up  the  Second  Massachusetts  Regiment,  of  which 
so  much  has  been  already  said.  And  I  can  truly  say,  that 
from  the  beginning  of  our  acquaintance,  my  love,  my  re 
spect,  and  my  admiration  for  him  went  on  increasing  to  the 
end. 


APPENDIX.  323 

"  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  judge  from  the  assistance  I 
derived  from  him,  first  as  a  student  and  afterwards  as  an 
associate,  and  from  having  been  present  at  the  argument  of 
nearly  all  the  questions  of  law  which  were  argued  before 
the  full  bench  of  the  Supreme  Court  while  he  was  at  the 
Bar,  I  should  find  it  hard  to  name  one  of  his  age  who  was 
better  grounded  in  the  principles  of  the  Law.  And  I  think 
I  may  say,  that  I  have  never  known  any  young  man  who 
combined  in  such  just  and  equal  proportions  the  theory  to 
be  learned  from  the  books  with  a  readiness  of  practical  ap 
plication  to  the  facts  of  cases  as  they  came  up. 

"  It  has  been  said  here  to-day  that  his  judgment  was  un 
commonly  mature  for  his  years  ;  and  that  is  true.  But  it 
is  not  all.  He  did  not  rest  satisfied  with  what  he  had  at 
tained.  As  he  grew  older  he  improved,  not  only  in  expe 
rience  and  in  soundness  of  judgment,  but  in  breadth  of  view 
and  height  of  aim,  and  in  generous  consideration  of  the 
efforts  of  others  not  so  high  in  their  aims  or  so  fortunate  in 
their  faculties  as  himself.  He  had  no  mean  spirit  of  rivalry. 
He  ran  not  to  pass  others  in  the  race,  but  to  reach  the  goal ; 
and  he  would  have  run  the  same  race  if  no  others  had  run 
with  him. 

"  In  everything  that  he  undertook  he  was  moved  by  the 
same  spirit.  His  character  is,  perhaps,  shown  more  clearly 
by  a  few  illustrations  from  his  life  than  by  any  abstract  com 
ments  or  opinions. 

"  I  remember  when  he  was  at  home  on  parole,  after  he 
had  been  taken  prisoner  in  the  retreat  of  the  Shenandoah 
Valley  (and  it  should  be  remembered  that  from  the  time 
he  entered  the  army  he  never  took  a  day's  furlough,  or  was 
absent  from  his  regiment  except  from  some  exigency  of  the 
service),  that  he  was  speaking  of  the  descent  of  a  hill- with 
his  regiment  under  a  very  heavy  fire,  and  was  asked  about 
his  thoughts  and  feelings  then.  '  If  you  wish  to  know,'  he 
answered  '  (as  we  are  all  friends  here),  I  had  written  a  let 
ter  to  one  of  you  commenting  pretty  freely  upon  the  cam- 


324  APPENDIX. 

paign,  and  perhaps  on  some  individuals  ;  and  I  thought  if  I 
should  be  killed  I  should  not  like  to  have  it  fall  into  the 
enemy's  hands.  So  I  took  it  out  of  my  pocket,  and  as  we 
inarched  down  the  hill  I  tore  it  up.'  This  shows  how  he 
always  kept  in  view  his  whole  duty,  the  smallest  things  as 
well  as  the  most  important. 

"  To  those  who  really  knew  him,  his  warmth  of  feeling 
was  not  less  remarkable  than  his  purity  of  principle  and  his 
strength  of  character.  None  but  his  intimate  friends  knew 
how  much  of  his  time  was  taken  up  in  acts  of  kindness  and 
charity.  From  the  time  he  became  a  soldier,  he  was  devoted 
to  the  care  of  his  men,  both  as  a  matter  of  military  judgment 
and  of  right  feeling  in  this,  as  in  other  things,  showing  how 
his  intellect  and  his  heart  worked  together.  His  men's 
appreciation  of  his  kindness  has  been  shown  by  the  instances 
which  have  been  recited  by  others.  But  it  is  very  striking 
how  in  each  principal  act  of  his  military  career  the  same 
spirit  was  manifested.  At  Winchester  he  was  taken  prisoner 
while  caring  for  a  wounded  soldier.  At  Antietam  lie  re 
ceived  his  death-wound  while  suggesting  to  his  Colonel  that 
the  men  had  been  halted  at  a  place  where  they  were  too 
much  exposed  to  the  enemy's  fire.  And  I  see  in  a  news 
paper  this  morning  (and  I  believe  it  because  it  accords  with 
what  I  have  often  heard  of  him),  that  when  he  was  lying  on 
Ins  death-bed,  his  attention  was  principally  directed  to  the 
other  wounded  men  about  him,  and  his  indignation  strongly 
expressed  to  a  surgeon  who  neglected  them. 

"  If  I  were  conversing  with  any  one  of  you  as  man  to 
man,  I  could  go  on  all  day  with  illustrations  of  his  charac 
ter.  But  I  feel,  even  in  addressing  a  circle  of  this  size,  that 
I  cannot  well  collect  my  thoughts  or  express  myself  with 
sufficient  distinctness. 

"  Let  me,  before  closing,  but  mention  a  parallel  which 
came  to  my  mind  on  the  morning  of  the  news  of  his  death, 
while  talking  of  his  many  noble  qualities  with  an  older  friend 
of  his,  one  nearer  his  own  age  than  myself. 


APPENDIX.  325 

"  We  had  been  speaking  of  his  patriotic  feeling,  his  broad 
and  sound  views  of  politics  and  government,  his  zeal  and 
labor  in  learning  the  art  of  war,  the  love  his  men  bore  him, 
and  his  deference  to  those  of  military  education  or  experi 
ence. 

"  Indeed,  with  all  his  resolution  in  carrying  out  his  plans, 
he  had  really  a  modest  opinion  of  his  own  abilities.  When 
he  undertook  anything  he  did  all  he  honorably  could  to 
carry  it  through,  and  his  manner  sometimes  implied  a  self- 
reliance  which  he  did  not  really  have.  At  the  time  of  get 
ting  up  his  regiment,  he  had  no  thought  of  any  higher  office 
for  himself  than  a  captain's,  and  he  would  have  taken  a 
sergeant's  place  if  it  had  been  assigned  to  him.  After  all 
his  friends  and  those  who  knew  most  about  the  regiment 
had  assumed  that  he  would  have  a  higher  place  in  it  than 
any  other  civilian  (it  being  understood  that  he  had  procured 
two  graduates  of  West  Point  for  the  highest  officers),  he 
had  hardly  entertained  the  idea  seriously,  and  his  friends 
know  what  misgivings  he  had  about  accepting  the  post  of 
major,  when  tendered  to  him  by  his  superior  officers. 

u  He  never  did  anything  for  vainglory.  But  he  never 
shrunk  from  putting  himself  forward,  at  any  personal  risk, 
when  there  was  an  object  to  be  gained.  In  the  charge  of 
Gordon's  and  Crawford's  brigades  at  the  crisis  of  the  battle 
of  Antietam,  under  the  last  order  of  General  Hooker,  as  he 
left  the  field  wounded,  the  Second  Massachusetts  and  an 
other  regiment  of  Gordon's  brigade  advanced  with  their 
lines  at  a  slight  angle,  so  that  their  converging  fire  almost 
destroyed  the  opposing  Rebel  regiment,  and  they  charged 
directly  over  it.  Colonel  Dwight  dismounted,  took  the 
papers  from  the  body  of  the  Rebel  colonel,  seized  the  Rebel 
colors,  remounted,  and  rode  up  and  down  the  line,  under 
the  hot  fire  of  the  enemy,  waving  the  flag  to  encourage  the 
men. 

"  As  we  talked  of  him,  I  recalled  and  quoted  the  histo 
rian's  description  of  the  motives  of  a  noble  Roman  youth, 


326  APPENDIX. 

who  left  civil  life  for  the  military  service  of  his  country,  — 
as  contrasted  with  the  idleness  and  luxury  of  many  military 
men.  '  Sed  noseere  provinciam,  nosci  exercitui,  discere  a  pe- 
ritis,  sequi  optimos,  nifiil  appetere  jactations,  nihil  ob  formidi- 
nem  recmare,  simulque  anxius  et  intentus  agere?  When  I 
went  home  I  opened  the  book  to  see  whether  I  had  not 
remembered  this  more  aptly  than  it  was  written  ;  and  found 
the  very  next  sentence  so  strikingly  applicable,  that  I  ven 
ture  in  this  educated  audience  to  quote  that  too.  '  Non  Bane 
alias  exercitatior,  magisque  in  ambiguo,  Britannia  fuit :  truci- 
dati  veterani,  incensce  colonice,  intercepti  exercitus  :  turn,  de 
salute,  mox  de  victor  id,  certavereS  It  was  at  that  moment, 
when  the  Republic  was  safe,  and  about  to  be  victorious,  that 
Wilder  D wight  fell." 

Mr.  Ellis  followed  with  these  remarks :  — 

"  MR.  CHAIRMAN,  —  To  such  testimony  from  teacher,  part 
ner,  comrade,  and  friends  nothing  can  be  added.  But, 
considering  who  those  are  who  have  thus  spoken,  I  may  be 
pardoned  for  trying  to  utter  a  word  which  it  is  fit  should  be 
said  for  the  Bar. 

"  We  have  lately  had  taken  from  our  midst  the  fairest 
lives  that  peace  can  produce,  and  only  wept  in  silence. 
But  in  an  hour  like  this  we  must  give  utterance  to  our 
feelings  ;  for,  whether  it  be  true  or  not,  it  surely  is  to  be 
expected  that  the  value  of  States  and  institutions,  results 
of  the  labors  of  races  for  ages,  is  best  known  to  those  whose 
lives  are  passed  in  study  of  the  laws  ;  and  that  they  feel 
more  than  any  others  how  sacred  is  the  call  of  duty  which 
governs  those  who  take  up  the  sword  to  defend  them. 

"  The  brethren  of  the  Bar,  attesting  their  sense  of  the 
worth  of  the  friend  whom  they  mourn,  and  his  merit  in  going 
forth,  express  their  feeling  at  the  conduct  of  others  who 
have  gone  from  amongst  them  to  fight,  or  to  die,  for  their 
country. 

"  Deliberately,  solemnly,  they  now  record  their  judgment, 


APPENDIX.  327 

that  he  did  the  highest  duty  man  could  do,  and  died  the 
best  death  man  can  die." 

The  resolutions  were  unanimously  adopted,  and 
the  Attorney-General  was  requested  to  present  them 
to  the  Court.  The  meeting  then  adjourned. 


PROCEEDINGS   IN   COURT. 

ON  the  first  day  of  October  Term  of  the  Supreme 
Judicial  Court  for  the  County  of  Suffolk,  Mr.  Justice 
Hoar  presiding,  Mr.  Abbott  offered  the  resolutions 
adopted  at  the  meeting  of  the  Bar,  and  moved  that 
they  be  entered  upon  the  records  of  the  Court.  He 
introduced  his  motion  with  the  following  remarks:  — 

"MAY  IT  PLEASE  YOUR  HONOR,  —  Iii  the  absence  of  the 
Attorney-General,  the  constituted  organ  of  communication 
between  the  Bar  and  this  Court,  and  because,  I  suppose,  I 
was,  out  of  the  Bar  and  in  the  Bar,  perhaps  as  near  and 
dear  a  friend  of  the  deceased  as  any  other  one,  I  have  been 
requested  by  my  brethren  to  present  these  resolutions  to 
your  Honor  ;  and  the  occasion  may  make  it  fit,  with  the 
permission  of  your  Honor,  before  I  make  the  formal  motion 
to  enter  these  resolutions  upon  the  records,  that  I  should 
say  a  few  words  in  reference  to  our  departed  friend. 

"  I  would  not  trtist  myself  to  enter  now,  even  when  the 
freshness  of  grief  has  been  softened  by  time,  into  any  length 
ened,  any  careful,  analysis  of  his  character  and  his  qualities  ; 
but,  sir,  occupying  the  position  in  reference  to  him  which 
I  did, —  a  position  of  great  intimacy,  remarkable,  I  may  say, 
between  a  person  so  young  as  he  was —  for,  with  all  he  had 
accomplished,  he  had  not  reached  the  age  of  thirty  years  — 
and  a  person  of  my  years,  I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  not  in 


328  APPENDIX. 

words  of  exaggeration,  but  in  simplest  words,  and  words 
which  utter  but  the  simplest  truth,  what  I  know  of  him. 
And  if  I  were  to  characterize  his  peculiar  qualities,  I  should 
say,  more  in  this  than  in  anything  else,  was  he  remarkable, 
that  for  a  person  so  young,  for  a  person  who  from  his  years 
could  have  had  so  little  knowledge  of  the  affairs  and  conduct 
of  life,  he  was  most  mature, — most  mature  in  judgment  and 
in  experience.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  was  one  of  those 
most  disagreeable  of  all  persons,  an  old  young  man  ;  for, 
though  mature  in  judgment  and  in  experience,  he  retained 
all  the  grace  and  the  freshness  of  youth,  which  you  and  I, 
sir,  as  we  recede  farther  from  these  days  of  youth,  learn  most 
to  prize  and  to  value.  In  addition,  sir,  he  had  common 
sense.  He  had  a  rare  combination  of  common  sense  and 
good  judgment,  —  a  combination  of  those  qualities  which 
would  enable  him,  or  any  one  else  who  may  be  the  fortunate 
possessor  of  them,  to  decide  at  once  what  he  can  do  and 
what  he  cannot  do ;  to  see  what  is  within  his  grasp 
and  what  is  within  his  power,  and  what  is  not,  so  as  to 
make  his  efforts  tell,  and  not  be  constantly  striving  after 
what  is  not  within  his  power.  That  common  sense,  that 
clear,  good,  sound  judgment,  in  a  person  so  young,  com 
bined  with  great  energy  and  great  force  and  power  of  will, 
enabled  him  to  be  more  practical,  more  successful,  in  doing 
whatever  he  undertook  than  almost  any  man  who  had  lived 
so  few  years.  Practically  he  was  a  man  who  accomplished 
all  things  he  undertook,  and  did  well  what  he  undertook, 
because  his  good  sense,  his  common  sense,  his  good  judg 
ment,  his  clear  head,  enabled  him  to  see  what  he  could  do, 
and  to  know  what  he  could  do,  and  what  he  could  not 
do. 

"  In  reference  to  his  qualifications  and  his  ability  as  a 
lawyer,  your  Honor  and  your  associates  have  some  knowl 
edge,  because,  although  so  young,  he  had  often  had  the 
pleasure  of  appearing  before  your  Honor  sitting  at  nisi  prius, 
and  before  your  associates  sitting  as  a  Court  of  Law.  For 


APPENDIX.  329 

myself,  after  more  than  a  score  of  years  spent  in  courts, 
almost  living  in  them,  and  knowing  something  of  the  prac 
tice  of  the  law,  and  the  way  it  should  be  practised,  I  can 
only  say,  without  being  invidious  to  my  friends  around  me, 
I  never  knew  so  young  a  person  in  the  whole  of  my  ac 
quaintance,  or  in  the  whole  length  and  breadth  of  the 
Commonwealth,  whose  future  had  more  promise  than  the 
future  of  Colonel  D  wight.  I  can  say  in  reference  to  my 
appreciation  of  him,  and  what  I  know  you  will  appreciate, 
as  the  highest  evidence,  in  my  judgment,  of  his  qualifica 
tions  as  a  lawyer,  that  I  have  come  up  before  you  and  your 
associates  —  the  tribunal  which  I  most  respect  above  human 
tribunals  —  depending  entirely  upon  briefs  furnished  by  my 
associate,  this  young  man.  I  have  trusted  —  beginning  with 
the  first  cause  he  ever  had  occasion  to  try  after  being  admitted 
to  the  Bar  —  trusted,  what  I  should  rarely  do,  the  entire 
preparation  of  causes  to  him,  and  sat  down  to  the  trial  of 
them  without  any  personal  attention  to  the  preparation 
myself.  That,  sir,  is  the  highest  possible  testimony  I  can 
give  as  to  my  own  belief  as  to  his  qualifications  and  his 
prospects. 

"  As  a  man,  you  knew  him.  He  was  just,  he  was  true, 
he  was  manly,  he  was  generous.  He  was  unselfish  ;  always 
ready  to  devote  himself  to  others  ;  ready  to  do  more  for 
others  than  for  himself. 

"  One  single  word  as  to  his  military  career.  You  know 
with  what  alacrity  he  sprang,  at  the  first  news  of  the  break 
ing  out  of  the  great  Rebellion,  to  the  defence  of  his  country. 
I  recollect  perfectly  well,  and  shall  never  forget  it,  that  be 
ing  engaged  at  that  time  in  this  court  in  the  trial  of  a  some 
what  important  case,  and,  as  you  know,  coming  in  early  in 
the  morning  and  remaining  until  night,  he  came  to  me 
before  court  in  the  morning  with  the  announcement  that  he 
desired  to  ask  my  opinion,  although  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  upon  the  matter.  I  think  it  was  the  very  day  after 
the  news  had  arrived  of  the  first  gun  fired  in  this  war  which 


330  APPENDIX. 

has  so  long  desolated  the  land ;  and  the  question  was 
whether  he  should  offer  his  services  to  his  country,  —  wheth 
er  he  should  join  with  others  in  the  defence  of  that  Consti 
tution  and  those  Laws  under  which  he  and  his  had  lived 
and  prospered.  And,  sir,  now  in  full  view  of  all  that  has 
come  to  pass,  I  am  glad  that  I  gave  my  advice  to  him  to  do 
as  he  had  done.  I  could  not  hesitate,  having,  as  I  told  him, 
the  very  night  before  given  the  same  advice  to  three  of  my 
sons.  We  know  with  what  energy,  with  what  power,  with 
what  earnestness  of  purpose,  he  joined  in  the  work  of  organ 
izing  and  taking  to  the  seat  of  war  the  regiment  with  which 
he  was  connected.  To  him,  more  than  to  any  other  man, 
it  is  undoubtedly  owing  that  the  Commonwealth  then  had 
a  regiment  sent  to  the  war  of  which  she  had  a  right  to  be 
proud,  a  regiment  that  has  never  retreated  without  orders, 
which  has  always  done  its  duty,  and  its  whole  duty. 

"  I  know  how  he  was  thought  of,  because  I  have  the  testi 
mony  of  one  who  was  with  him  from  the  time  the  first  sol 
dier  joined  the  regiment  down  to  the  time  he  laid  down  his 
life,  a  few  weeks  before  Colonel  Dwight's  death.  You  will 
permit  me  to  read  here  something  I  received  from  the  one 
I  refer  to,  who  was  with  him  in  the  first  fight  of  the  regi 
ment  at  Winchester,  where  this  regiment,  and  mainly  by 
the  efforts  of  the  then  Major  D wight,  saved  the  army-corps 
of  General  Banks,  marching  sixty-three  miles  in  thirty-six 
hours,  and  fighting  a  large  part  of  those  hours.  This  ac 
count  is  from  one  who  was  with  him  in  the  rear-guard : 
'  His  courage  and  coolness  are  worthy  of  all  praise.  He 
walked  about,  apparently  as  unconcerned  as  if  lounging  on 
Washington  Street.  His  devotion  to  the  wounded  is  sub 
lime.  He  is  my  hero  of  the  fight.  The  men  never  tire  of 
talking  of  him,  and  praising  him.' 

"  I  could  desire  that  some  account  might  have  been  given 
by  an  eyewitness  of  his  reception  by  his  regiment,  and  by 
men  of  other  regiments,  on  his  return  from  his  short  cap 
tivity,  coming  upon  them  unexpectedly.  The  account  is 


APPENDIX.  331 

most  thrilling  and  most  affecting.  Although  the  war  is 
reaching  to  our  borders,  we  can  have  no  conception  of  the  way 
that  men,  who  have  shared  the  hardships  of  the  march  and 
the  dangers  of  the  battle-field,  are  knit  together  in  soul  and 
mind  and  heart ;  and  these  soldiers  were  men  of  New  Eng 
land,  cold  and  undemonstrative,  unapt  to  show  their  feelings, 
however  strong  ;  yet  you  would  have  supposed  that  it  was 
the  return  to  a  regiment  of  Frenchmen,  so  demonstrative 
were  they  on  that  occasion. 

"  His  conduct  was  the  same  on  that  last  sad  day  when 
he  was  called  to  lay  down  his  life.  He  showed  the  same 
bravery  as  a  man,  the  same  skill  as  a  soldier,  the  same 
steadfastness  of  soul,  when  he  was  looking  death  full  in  the 
face.  He  showed  himself,  as  he  was,  in  addition  to  all  his 
other  qualities,  a  good  and  true  Christian,  —  a  man  who,  I 
know,  always  believed,  always  had  faith  in  the  Christian 
religion ;  and  I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  that,  while  he  laid 
upon  the  battle-field  penning  a  note  to  the  one  he  loved 
most  and  dearest  on  earth,  he  wound  up  by  saying,  and  in  so 
doing  well  rounded  off  his  life  :  c  All  is  well  with  those  that 
have  faith.' 

"  In  conclusion,  sir,  I  can  say  of  him,  and  can  say  of 
him  from  knowledge,  because  I  knew  him  most  intimately 
and  loved  him  most  dearly,  that  in  all  the  relations  of  life, 
as  a  son,  as  a  brother,  as  a  friend,  as  a  citizen,  he  was 
most  dutiful,  most  loving,  most  true,  most  manly,  and  most 
generous. 

"  I  now  move  you,  sir,  that  you  will  please  to  direct  these 
resolutions  to  be  entered  upon  the  records  of  the  Court. 

Mr.  Justice  Hoar  responded :  - 

"  GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  BAR,  —  The  Court  receive  with  sat 
isfaction  the  tribute  to  the  worth  of  your  departed  associate, 
which  the  resolutions  you  have  now  presented  so  truthfully 
and  appropriately  set  forth.  According  to  your  request,  I 


332  APPENDIX. 

direct  them  to  be  entered  upon  the  records  of  the  Court, 
as  an  enduring  memorial  of  the  estimation  in  which  his 
professional  character  was  held  by  his  brethren,  and  of  the 
impression  made  upon  them  by  a  life  so  honorably  spent,  so 
nobly  closed. 

"  Although  the  connection  of  Mr.  Dwight  with  this  bar 
was  a  short  one,  it  was  long  enough  to  exhibit  the  thorough 
ness  of  his  training,  the  clearness  and  strength  of  his  intel 
lect,  his  diligence  as  a  student,  the  soundness  of  his  judg 
ment,  and  the  manliness  of  his  character.  I  feel  that  I  may 
speak  for  my  brethren  as  well  as  myself,  when  I  say  that 
he  has  attracted  the  notice  of  the  Court  as  one  of  the  most 
promising  young  men  practising  at  this  bar,  —  of  uncommon 
accomplishments  and  capacity,  devoted  to  his  chosen  pro 
fession  with  a  zeal  and  fidelity  which  must  have  insured 
distinction  and  success. 

"  Perhaps  this  is  all  which  a  just  expression  of  sympathy 
and  respect,  and  the  proprieties  of  the  place  and  the  occa 
sion,  require  now  to  be  said.  But,  gentlemen,  when  I  think 
that  we  are  never  again  to  see  that  bright,  young  face  in 
these  scenes  in  which  it  was  so  familiar  and  so  pleasant, 
that  we  are  here  paying  the  last  sad  honors  to  his  memory, 
I  feel  that  you  will  pardon  me  for  adding  a  few  words 
prompted  by  personal  affection  for  one  whom,  as  pupil,  as 
sociate,  and  friend,  I  have  known  so  intimately  and  loved 
so  well. 

"  You  have  spoken  of  him  in  terms  of  high  praise  ;  but 
he  deserved  it  all.  The  honors  you  have  paid  to  him  have 
been  usually  reserved  for  the  leaders  of  the  bar,  for  the 
elders  and  sages  of  the  law  ;  but  his  few  years  bore  the  fruit 
of  long  life.  And  if  it  is  ever  permitted  to  be  careless  of 
measuring  the  language  of  eulogy,  to  give  full  utterance  to 
our  love  and  admiration,  is  it  not  when  the  bright  promise 
of  youth  is  thus  suddenly  cut  down  ?  As  we  advance  in 
life,  the  attainments  of  the  best  of  us  are  subject  to  many 
limitations  and  deductions.  But  the  future  of  honor  and 


APPENDIX.  333 

usefulness  that  opened  before  him  was  unlimited  ;  and  what 
achievement  or  performance  was  ever  equal  to  a  great  hope  ? 
He  had,  of  course,  not  been  engaged  in  many  important 
causes,  but  he  had  been  in  some,  and  his  manner  of  dealing 
with  them  was  such  as  to  excite  the  interest  and  respect  of 
his  associates  and  antagonists.  Though  a  beginner,  and 
never  intrusive,  he  seemed  to  attach  himself  by  a  natural 
affinity  to  the  society  of  able  men,  and  I  suppose  no  man  of 
his  age  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  and  friendship  with  so 
many  of  those  who  hold  the  front  rank  in  the  profession. 
Yet  he  was  the  genial  and  sympathetic  companion  of  the 
large  circle  of  his  own  age,  among  whom  his  strong  sense, 
ready  wit,  energy,  cheerfulness,  and  cordial  good  fellowship 
made  him  a  natural  leader.  To  those  who  knew  him 
slightly  he  may  have  seemed  exacting  and  imperious  ;  but 
to  one  who  knew  him  well,  it  was  evident  that  this  decision 
and  readiness  to  act  was  only  the  '  assurance '  (if  I  may  so  use 
the  word)  which  springs  from  clear  perceptions,  conscious 
power  to  produce  results,  and  a  resolute  will-,  —  a  quality 
often  found  attending  great  powers.  He  saw  what  ought 
to  be  done,  he  knew  he  could  do  it,  and  he  did  it.  He  was 
ambitious,  but  with  no  vulgar  ambition.  He  had  large  views 
of  life,  its  objects,  and  its  possibilities  ;  and  for  these  with 
thoughtful  and  diligent  preparation  he  reserved  himself, 
seeking  no  sudden  notoriety,  and  aspiring  to  no  place  or 
honor  but  those  which  are  awarded  to  substantial  service. 
It  was  characteristic  of  him,  that  with  every  advantage  for 
an  early  entrance  upon  active  life,  he  delayed  entering  upon 
the  practice  of  his  profession  until  after  a  period  much  more 
than  that  usually  allotted  to  preparatory  study.  Of  a  family 
among  the  most  respectable  in  our  Commonwealth,  from  a 
refined  and  cultivated  home,  his  mind  enriched  with  the 
learning  of  the  University  and  matured  by  foreign  travel, 
he  came  to  the  practice  of  his  profession,  undoubtedly  with 
the  purpose  to  seek  eminence  in  it,  but  to  seek  it  only  in  the 
lofty  path  of  usefulness  and  honor.  He  was  intrinsically 


334  APPENDIX. 

modest,  and,  coupled  with  such  energy  and  force  of  will,  it 
was  a  beautiful  trait  of  his  character. 

"  You  have  alluded,  sir,  in  presenting  the  resolutions,  to 
his  military  career.  When  he  had  first  determined  to  offer 
his  services  to  the  government,  to  give  his  time  and  his  tal 
ents  to  the  cause  of  the  country,  with  that  practical  skill  and 
sagacity  which  always  attended  his  actions,  he  set  about 
making  his  services  efficient  for  the  purpose  which  he  had 
in  view,  and  he  determined  to  raise  a  regiment,  and  as  the 
beginning,  to  provide  a  sufficient  fund  for  the  purpose  ;  and 
he  set  011  foot  a  large  and  successful  subscription.  Next  he 
looked  for  officers  skilled  in  command,  fitted  by  education 
and  character  and  capacity  for  the  purpose,  and  he  associated 
himself  with  such  in  organizing  the  regiment.  But  for 
himself  it  required  some  urging  to  induce  him  to  take  a 
place  among  the  field-officers.  He  said  to  me  that  if  he 
could  be  a  captain  or  a  lieutenant,  with  his  inexperience  in 
military  matters,  it  ought  to  be  as  much  as  he  should  under 
take.  He  was  appointed  major  of  the  regiment,  and  I  re 
member,  when  the  regiment  was  nearly  ready  to  start,  the 
great  amount  of  labor  which  its  preparation  involved  being 
done,  I  said  to  him,  just  as  he  had  received  his  commission, 
'  I  was  glad  that  I  had  a  friend  appointed  to  that  particular 
place,  so  that  now  I  might  ascertain  —  what  I  never  knew  — 
what  the  duties  of  a  major  were.'  Said  he,  '  They  are,  the 
oretically,  nothing  ;  practically,  everything.' 

"  His  views  of  the  war  and  its  objects  were  such  as  you 
would  expect  from  his  unselfish  character.  He  gave  him 
self  to  that  duty,  when  he  embraced  the  military  profession, 
with  the  same  singleness  of  purpose  and  entire  devotion 
with  which  he  had  given  himself  to  the  other  duties  of  life. 
Whatever  his  hand  found  to  do,  he  did  it  with  his  might. 
'  JEt  sive  ad  rem  militarem,  sive  ad  juris  scientiam,  sive  ad 
doquentice  studium  inclinasset,  id  solum  ageret,  id  universum. 
hauriret.' 

"  From  such  a  character  as  his  what  had  we  not  to  hope  ? 
What  a  future  was  before  him  ! 


APPENDIX.  335 

*  For  can  I  doubt,  who  knew  thce  keen 

In  intellect,  with  force  and  skill 

To  strive,  to  fashion,  to  fulfil, 
I  doubt  not  what  thou  wouldst  have  been/ 

"  I  hold  in  my  hand,  brethren,  something  that  I  cannot 
forbear  to  read  to  yon,  and  which  brings  to  my  own  mind, 
with  a  vividness  that  I  cannot  express,  that  cheerful,  bright 
presence,  which  was  always  an  encouragement  and  a  stimu 
lant.  After  he  had  received  his  mortal  wound,  which  he 
knew  to  be  mortal,  and  had  opened  his  eyes  from  a  period 
of  exhaustion  to  find  the  familiar  face  of  his  friend,  the 
Chaplain  of  the  regiment,  bending  over  him,  '  with  a  firm 
look  and  a  natural  smile,  he  said,  "  It  is  all  right,  all 
right."  The  narrator  proceeds,  '  I  replied,  "  I  thank  God 
you  feel  so  cheerful,"  when  he  added,'  (and  you  notice  the 
brisk  and  rapid  manner  of  the  soldier,  but  how  characteristic 
of  him  whom  we  so  well  remember,)  '  "  Now,  Chaplain,  I 
know  I  am  done  for,  but  I  want  you  to  understand  I  don't 
flinch  a  hair.  I  should  like  to  live  a  few  days,  so  as  to  see 
my  father  and  mother.  They  think  a  good  deal  of  me,  es 
pecially  my  mother.  Too  much.  (This  was  said  smilingly.) 
But  apart  from  that,  if  God  calls  for  me  this  minute,  I  am 
ready  to  go." 

"  Tender  and  loving  son,  firm  friend,  true  soldier,  Chris 
tian  hero,  we  give  thee  up  to  thy  fame  !  For  you,  life  has 
been  enough. 

'  Goodness  and  greatness  are  not  means,  but  ends.' 

For  us,  there  is  left  the  precious  legacy  of  his  life.  Brethren, 
it  is  well  that  we  should  pause,  as  we  are  entering  upon  our 
stated  and  accustomed  duties,  to  draw  inspiration  from  such 
an  example.  For  who  can  think  of  that  fair  and  honorable 
life,  and  of  the  death  which  that  young  soldier  died,  without 
a  new  sense  of  what  is  worthiest  in  human  pursuits,  —  a 
stronger  devotion  to  duty,  a  warmer  ardor  of  patriotism, 
a  surer  faith  in  immortality  !  " 


APPENDIX    IV. 

AT  a  meeting  of  members  of  the  Class  of  1853,  of 
Harvard  College,  at  the  Parker  House,  on  the 
evening  of  September  23,  1862,  called  to  take  notice 
of  the  death  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Wilder  Dwight,  a 
member  of  the  same,  it  was  unanimously 

"  Resolved,  That  in  the  death  of  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Dwight  the  University  has  lost  a  graduate  who,  in  his 
life  and  services,  and  still  more  by  the  promise  of  future 
•usefulness  and  distinction  (so  prematurely  disappointed), 
has  reflected  new  honor  on  the  places  of  his  birth  and  edu 
cation. 

"  Resolved,  That  we  recognize  in  his  military  career  and 
death  the  same  activity,  earnestness,  and  practical  ability 
which  ever  distinguished  him,  and  which  have  been  the 
subject  of  honorable  mention  by  his  commanding  officer, 
Colonel,  now  General,  Gordon,  in  his  official  report,  when 
he  wrote  of '  this  promising  and  brave  officer,  so  cool  upon 
the  field,  so  efficient  everywhere,  so  much  beloved  in  his 
regiment,  and  whose  gallant  services  on  the  night  of  the 
24th  instant  will  never  be  forgotten  by  them.' 

"  Resolved,  That  we  attend  his  funeral,  and  transmit  a 
copy  of  these  resolutions  to  the  family  of  the  deceased,  as  a 
token  of  our  most  respectful  sympathy  in  their  affliction." 

The  above  resolutions  were  transmitted  to  the 
family  of  Colonel  Dwight,  accompanied  by  the  fol 
lowing  letter : — 


APPENDIX.  337 

"BOSTON,  September  24,  1862. 

"  WILLIAM  DWIGHT,  ESQ., 

"  DEAR  SIR,  —  The  resolutions  which  I  have  the  honor 
of  transmitting  to  you  herewith  are  not  valuable  as  coming 
from  a  body  of  any  importance,  or  whose  notice  is  supposed 
to  add  anything  to  the  distinction  of  Colonel  Dwight's  name, 
but  must  be  taken  as  an  expression  of  the  feelings  of  private 
friends,  who  knew  him  before  his  entrance  into  professional 
and  public  life,  and  who  watched  his  course  with  an  interest 
which  strangers  could  not  feel. 

"  Allow  me,  sir,  to  add  my  own  regrets  at  the  loss  of  a 
friend  with  whom  I  always  held  the  kindest  relations,  and 
for  whose  unsullied  integrity  and  great  abilities  I  always 
entertained  a  profound  respect. 

"  In  behalf  of  the  Class  Committee. 

"  Very  respectfully  your  obedient  servant, 

"  SAMUEL  S.  SHAW." 


APPENDIX    V. 

A    DIRGE. 

HEAD  AT  THE  CLASS  SUPPER  OP  THE  CLASS  OF  1853,  COMMENCEMENT 
EVENING,  1863.  > 

MOURN  for  the  young ! 
Mourn  for  the  brave  ! 
He  sleeps  beneath  the  sod, 
With  all  the  stars  of  God 
To  watch  his  grave. 
He  gave  himself  for  us 
In  battle  glorious, — 
And  shall  he  go  unsung  ? 

Mourn  for  the  young ! 
Mourn  for  the  brave  ! 
About  his  gallant  head 
Did  battle-banners  wave ; 
About  his  dying  bed 
The  bullet  sung ; 
The  cannon's  thunder  rung 
The  triumph  in  his  ear. 
The  spirit  is  with  God ; 
The  body  with  the  clod ; 
But  memory  with  us  here. 

Vanished  like  a  vanished  flame,  — 
That  comprehensive  wit, 
That  nobleness  of  aim, 
And  force  to  compass  it. 


APPENDIX.  339 

Glory  claims  him  hers,  and  we 
Must  lay  him  down. 
There  is  none  left  like  thee, 
King  jewel  of  our  crown ! 
But  when  a  hero  dies, 
Thank  God!  the  cause 
Of  country,  freedom,  laws, 
Lives  by  the  sacrifice  ! 

Mourn  for  the  young ! 

Mourn  for  the  brave ! 

The  slow  vine  creeps  around 

The  soldier's  grave. 

Long  be  votive  garlands  flung 

Upon  the  sacred  mound ! 

And  when  a  hundred  years 

Lose  record  of  our  tears, 

Still  will  the  voice  of  fame 

Exult  to  name  his  name  ; 
And  every  spring  the  clover  and  the  sorrel 
Make  haste  to  bloom  for  crown  and  laurel ! 

E.  J.  CUTLER. 


APPENDIX    VI. 

THE  following  is  extracted  from  a  notice  of  Wilder 
Dwight  which  appeared  in  the  Boston  Courier 
immediately  after  his  death.     It  is  inserted  here  as 
containing   an  admirable  analysis  of  his  mind  and 
character. 

"  .  .  .  .  He  possessed  powers  of  a  most  uncommon  order, 
and  which  seemed  destined  to  raise  him  to  an  exalted  posi 
tion  in  the  profession  of  the  law 

"  His  success  at  the  bar  was  very  rapid  ;  and  few  young 
men  had  so  high,  and  none  a  higher,  position  in  the  profes 
sion  than  he  had  when  he  left  it  for  the  field. 

"  He  had  studied  law  with  great  assiduity,  and  his  knowl 
edge  of  the  science  was  not  only  extensive  and  exact,  but 
also,  systematic  and  practical.  His  perceptions  were  quick, 
his  memory  good,  and  his  reasoning  powers  singularly  acute 
and  vigorous.  He  frequently,  during  the  four  years  he  was 
in  practice,  appeared  before  the  Supreme  Court  in  bane, 
and  many  of  his  arguments  there  displayed  learning,  re 
search,  and  vigorous  practical  logic,  which  would  have  done 
credit  to  many  of  the  leaders  of  his  profession.  But  of  his 
abilities  there  was  only  one  opinion  among  his  brethren. 
We  never  heard  a  young  lawyer,  who  was  acquainted  with 
him,  in  naming  the  promising  young  men  of  the  Bar,  fail  to 
mention  Mr.  Dwight  amongst  the  very  first. 

"  Mr.  D  wight's  literary  acquirements  were  also  of  a  supe 
rior  kind.  In  the  history  and  literature  of  his  profession  he 
was  exceedingly  well  versed,  and  his  knowledge  of  the  lives 
and  characters  of  the  great  ornaments  of  the  Bar,  both  in 
England  and  this  country,  was  very  great. 


APPENDIX.  341 

"  He  had  also  read,  in  general  literature,  much  more  than 
young  men  are  apt  to  do  in  these  days,  not  being  satisfied, 
as  too  many  are,  with  skimming  over  the  pages  of  the  Edin 
burgh  Quarterly  or  North  American,  and  to  rest  with  the 
smattering  information  which  the  periodical  publications 
afforded  him.  His  quick  perception  and  keen  discrimina 
tion  enabled  him,  undoubtedly,  to  succeed  with  much  less 
study  and  much  less  profound  learning  than  persons  of 
slower  and  less  pointed  intellects  could  ;  but  he  was  too 
wise  to  trust  very  much  to  these,  and  his  acquirements  were 
anything  but  superficial.  His  style,  both  in  writing  and 
speaking,  was  singularly  concise  and  sententious  ;  and  in 
discussing  any  subject,  his  thoughts  and  arguments  came  so 
rapidly,  pointedly,  and  tersely  from  his  lips  as  greatly  to 
embarrass  his  opponent.  His  temper  was  quick,  and  often 
overbearing ;  and  had  he  lived,  this  would  have  been,  at 
times,  very  uncomfortable  to  his  opponents  ;  but  in  private 
life  it  interfered  little  with  the  extreme  good  nature  and 
generosity  of  his  disposition  ;  and  we  think  his  personal 
friends  seldom  had  reason  to  complain  of  unkindness  or 
irritability  from  him.  His  courage,  moral  and  physical,  was 
undaunted,  and  was  strengthened  by  the  self-confidence  and 
reliance  naturally  arising  from  his  knowledge  that  he  pos 
sessed  unusual  mental  powers  and  resources  ;  and  we  know 
no  one  who  possessed,  to  a  greater  degree,  the  pluck  which 
the  English  so  much  admire 

"  The  remembrance  of  most  members  of  the  Bar,  however 
high  their  position,  soon  becomes  reduced  to  traditions 
among  their  successors.  Still  less  can  it  be  expected  that 
the  reputation  of  young  barristers  will  survive.  But  if  at 
the  Bar  he  be  forgotten,  and  among  the  crowd  of  the  fallen 
brave  of  this  war  his  name  be  lost,  it  will  be  long,  very  long, 
before,  among  his  friends  and  associates,  mention  ceases  to 


be  made  of  Wilder  D wight. 


C.  H.  H.' 


342  APPENDIX. 

The  value  of  the  tribute  quoted  above  is  enhanced 
by  the  fact  that  the  writer  was  not  restrained  by  the 
partiality  of  intimate  friendship  from  recognizing  the 
easily  besetting  fault  against  which  nearly  a  life-long 
struggle  was  maintained.  In  justice  to  the  memory 
of  Wilder  Dwight,  however,  it  should  here  be  said, 
that  those  who  saw  him  most  intimately  when  he 
was  last  at  home,  after  a  year's  service  in  the  army, 
were  impressed  by  the  conquest  which,  in  this  respect, 
he  had  achieved. 

He  had,  in  anticipation,  laid  down  his  life  for  hia 
country,  and  with  that  act  of  self-surrender  he  seemed 
to  have  cast  behind  him  everything  which  could,  in 
any  way,  mar  the  beauty  of  the  sacrifice  he  so  freely 
offered. 


APPENDIX    VII. 

IN  the  autumn  of  1861,  while  the  Second  Massachu 
setts  Eegiment  was  at  "  Pleasant  Hill  Camp,  near 
Darnestown,"  and  at  "  Camp  near  Seneca,"  in  Mary 
land,  it  was  near  the  farm  of  Mr.  Desellum  for  many 
weeks. 

During  that  period  he  visited  the  camp  frequently 
for  the  purpose  of  taking  to  it  the  produce  of  his 
farm. 

In  this  way  he  became  acquainted  with  Colonel 
Dwight,  and  so  much  attached  to  him,  that,  on  hear 
ing  of  his  death,  he  sent  to  his  family  the  following 
tribute  to  his  worth  :  — 

"  ....  I  cannot  describe  my  feelings  when  I  received  the 
sad  intelligence  that  the  kind,  the  brave,  the  noble  Colonel 
Wilder  Dwight  was  no  more.  I  have  not  language  to  con 
vey  my  sorrow,  nor  the  worth  of  the  deceased.  Regarding 
Colonel  Dwight,  after  a  year's  acquaintance,  as  one  of  the 
noblest  of  men,  —  which  I  can  conscientiously  say  without 
flattery,  —  it  gives  me  great  satisfaction  to  bear  my  humble 
testimony  to  his  distinguished  memory  and  merit.  My  first 
impression  of  Colonel  Dwight  was,  that  he  was  a  reliable 
gentleman  ;  subsequent  intercourse  confirmed  my  opinion. 
At  all  times  I  found  him  kind  and  courteous,  uniting  po 
liteness  and  simplicity  with  the  dignity  of  a  gentleman.  I 
saw  in  him  a  master-mind,  quick  in  perception,  eager  for 
information.  I  noted  his  quick  movements,  invincible 
determination,  restless  desire  to  combat  or  overcome  ob 
stacles. 


344  APPENDIX. 

"  I  had  opportunities  to  see  the  Colonel's  true  character  ; 
being  only  a  private  and  obscure  citizen  myself,  there  was 
no  necessity  for  him  to  disguise  (which  he  never  did)  his 
true  character.  My  frequent  interviews  with  him  have 
made  an  impression  of  his  worth  that  can  never  be  for 
gotten. 

"  Far  away  from  home,  amidst  the  varied  temptations  to 
indulgence  of  a  camp  life,  his  moral  character  remained 
untarnished.  He  was  ever  watchful  of  the  morality  and 
discipline  of  his  regiment,  —  his  own  personal  example  al 
ways  conspicuous,  —  no  trifling  jests  or  conversation  were 
indulged  in  by  him. 

"  His  active  and  well-trained  mind  was  continually  in 
vestigating  and  digesting  all  the  information  within  his 
reach.  I  never  found  him  idle. 

"  Space  will  not  permit  me  here  to  detail  what  I  know  of 
Colonel  Dwight's  vigilance  in  guarding  and  collecting  in 
formation  while  in  camp  on  the  Seneca  Creek  last  fall. 
Ceaseless  application  and  untiring  devotion  to  his  country 
were  predominant. 

"  Of  his  arduous  duties  in  camp,  his  devotion  and  atten 
tion  to  the  wants  and  comforts  of  his  men,  I  have  been  an 
eyewitness. 

"  He  was  brave,  almost  to  temerity.  How  effectual  was 
his  example  is  best  seen  in  the  intrepidity,  courage,  and 
devotion  of  the  Second  Massachusetts  Regiment. 

"  I  never  had  a  conversation  with  the  Colonel  on  sacred 
subjects,  but  his  strict  morality  impressed  me  with  the  be 
lief  that  he  fully  appreciated  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel. 

"  His  last  words,  the  language  of  the  dying  patriot,  show 
that  the  ruling  passion  was  strong  in  death.  The  battle  of 
Antietam,  in  magnitude  and  results,  will  be  referred  to  till 
the  end  of  time.  Who  does  not  envy  the  death  of  a  patriot 
on  such  an  occasion  ?".... 


APPENDIX    VIII. 

TT^XTKACT  from  a  letter  written  during  a  visit 
1^  to   Maryland   and   Virginia   in    the    spring    of 
1866:  — 

"HARPER'S  FERRY,  May,  1866. 

"...  .  Finding  myself  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Mary 
land  Heights,  I  was  bent  upon  visiting  the  spot  where  the 
Massachusetts  Second  encamped  during  the  summer  of 
1861,  when  Wilder  wrote  so  enthusiastically  of  the  scenery. 

"  I  was  misdirected,  by  a  man  at  the  hotel,  to  the  very 
summit  of  the  Heights.  I  had  Wilder's  letter  with  me, 
describing  the  situation  of  the  camp.  With  that  as  my 
guide,  I  was  quite  sure,  on  reaching  the  top  of  the  moun 
tain,  that  far  beneath  me  lay  the  farm  upon  which  was  the 
camp  of  the  Second.  There  was  the  '  broad  table-flat,'  not, 
as  when  he  described  it, '  white  with  tents  and  alive  with 
armed  men  and  vocal  with  martial  music,'  but  with  its  old 
farm-house  and  out-buildings  looking  so  solitary  and  so 
peaceful  that  it  seemed  impossible  it  could  ever  have  been 
the  seat  of  war. 

"  I  had  been  misdirected  quite  away  from  the  proper  path, 
yet,  I  could  hardly  regret  it,  as  I  remembered  how  often  Wil 
der  had  written  of  his  rides  on  horseback  to  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  first '  over  a  rough  path  cut  by  the  Kebels  two 
months  before,'  and  afterwards  '  over  the  road  cut  by  the 
immortal  Second,'  the  very  road  which  I  had  been  pursu 
ing. 

"  I  descended  to  the  farm,  which  was  now  my  goal,  by  a 
shorter  path,  on  foot.  It  was  very  steep  and  rough,  yet 
there  was  a  certain  pleasure  in  the  wild  and  strange  expe 
rience. 


346  APPENDIX. 

"  '  You  might  enjoy,'  Wilder  wrote,  l  the  tangled  path 
way  through  the  woods  ;  you  would  certainly  find  a  thirsty 
pleasure  at  the  spring  of  pure  water  which  pulses  from  the 
heart  of  the  mountain.'  And  now  I  reached  the  spring 
which  I  recognized  as  the  one  at  which  Wilder  had  often 
been  refreshed.  After  drinking  the  water,  I  stepped  upon 
the  plateau.  Here  was  the  farm  upon  which  the  Massachu 
setts  Second  encamped  in  July,  1861.  A  more  delightful 
spot  cannot  be  imagined. 

"  I  met  the  farmer  just  coming  out  from  his  barn.  I  said 
to  him,  '  Did  you  occupy  this  farm  in  July,  '61,  when  the 
Massachusetts  Second  encamped  here  ?  '  '  Yes,  I  did,'  said 
he ;  '  why  ?  were  you  here  then  ? '  '  No,'  I  replied  ; 4 1  asked 
because  my  son  was,  at  that  time,  the  Major  of  the  regi 
ment.'  At  this  the  man  took  my  hand  and  grasped  it  with 
all  his  might,  as  he  said,  4  You  are  not  Major  Dwight's 
mother,  are  you  ? '  The  tears  filled  his  eyes  ;  he  tried  to 
speak,  but  his  voice  was  choked,  as  he  said,  '  The  Major 
lived  here  a  good  while,  he  took  his  meals  with  us  in  this 
house  all  the  time  the  regiment  was  here.'  He  took  me  on 
to  the  piazza  of  the  house,  and  gave  me  a  seat.  He  sat 
down  beside  me,  but  seemed  unable  to  say  another  word. 
I  talked  to  him,  and  read  to  him  from  Wilder's  letter  what 
he  said  of  the  '  friendly  supper '  he  had  given  them  on  the 
first  night  of  their  arrival.  Soon  the  man  said,  4 1  '11  go  call 
my  wife ;  she  can  talk  to  you  about  him  better  than  I  can.' 
Almost  immediately  a  brisk  little  woman  made  her  appear 
ance,  with  both  hands  extended  to  take  mine.  '  0  !  I  did 
love  him  ! '  she  said  ;  '  everybody  loved  him,  —  the  servants, 
the  children,  the  officers,  the  soldiers,  —  he  was  beloved  by 
all.  His  kind  sympathy  for  me  I  shall  never  forget.  When 
we  were  overrun  here  by  the  army,  and  our  house  was 
taken  as  a  hospital,  and  we  were  turned  out  of  it  into  one 
of  the  out-buildings,  he  showed  such  sympathy  and  kindness 
for  me ;  he  would  have  stayed  the  torrent  if  he  could.'  I 
said  to  her,  '  I  am  thankful  that  I  have  found  this  spot. 


APPENDIX.  347 

I  think  lie  never  was  so  happy  anywhere  during  his  army 
life  as  he  was  here  ;  he  enjoyed  the  scenery  so  much.'  4  0  ! 
he  had  a  fine  imagination,'  she  replied  ;  '  he  would  sit  at 
the  western  window  of  that  room  at  sunset,  and  look  out 
upon  the  view,  and  draw  inspiration  from  it ;  and  then  he 
would  talk  and  look  so  happy  and  seem  to  enjoy  it  so  much. 
And  such  a  smile  as  he  had !  I  never  met  him  all  the  time 
he  was  here  that  he  did  n't  give  me  that  smile.  I  used  to 
say  to  him,  '  Major,  you  shed  sunshine  wherever  you  go.' 
She  took  me  in  to  her  best  room,  that  I  might  sit  at  the 
window  which  he  enjoyed  so  much.  Then  she  led  me  to 
the  porch  on  the  western  side  of  the  house,  that  she  might 
show  me  the  seat  he  used  to  occupy  there ;  where,  she  said, 
he  often  wrote  his  letters  to  me. 

"  She  gave  me  several  characteristic  anecdotes  of  him, 
illustrating  his  kindness  and  sympathy  for  her.  She  said 
she  wished  she  had  known  I  was  coming,  that  she  might 
have  recalled  more  incidents  connected  with  him  to  tell  me. 
'  I  shall  think  of  a  great  many  more  when  you  are  gone,' 
she  said.  '  I  am  too  much  excited  to  remember  them  all 
now,  —  so  suddenly.'  Her  husband  kept  out  of  the  way 
while  we  were  talking  of  Wilder.  4  He  never  can  bear  to 
speak  of  a  friend  who  has  died,'  she  said ;  '  but  I  feel  so 
differently.  I  love  to  talk  of  the  Major.' 

"  Among  the  many  illustrations  which  this  journey  has 
furnished  of  Wilder' s  c  remarkable  power  of  impressing  him 
self  upon  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,'  no  one  has 
affected  me  more  deeply  than  this  visit  to  good  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Unsel,  of  Maryland  Heights."  .... 


APPENDIX    IX. 

THE  following  tribute  to  Colonel  D wight  appeared, 
on  the  occasion  of  his  death,  in  The  Examiner, 
a  paper  published  in  Frederick  City,  Maryland.  It 
was  written  by  the  Eev.  George  Dhiel,  D.  D.,  of  Fred 
erick,  at  whose  house,  among  others,  Colonel  Dwight, 
with  Chaplain  Quint,  was  warmly  welcomed  on  his 
way  to  Antietam. 

It  is  the  more  valuable  as  showing  the  power 
Colonel  Dwight  possessed  of  winning  the  love  and 
respect  even  of  comparative  strangers. 

"DEATH  OF  A  GALLANT  OFFICER. 

"  Lieutenant-Colonel  Wilder  Dwight,  a  brave  and  faithful 
officer,  was  mortally  wounded  in  the  battle  of  Antietam,  on 
Wednesday,  the  17th  ultimo,  at  eleven,  A.  M.,  and  died  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  Jacob  Thomas,  near  Boonsboro',  on  Friday 
afternoon  following.  His  remains  were  brought  to  Fred 
erick  the  same  evening,  and  the  next  day,  in  the  charge  of 
his  brother,  Colonel  William  Dwight,  together  with  several 
officers  of  his  own  regiment,  were  taken  to  Boston  for  inter 
ment.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Dwight  was  a  young  man  of 
great  merit  and  superior  accomplishments.  The  son  of 
wealthy  parents,  he  enjoyed  from  early  life  the  advantages 
of  the  best  society  and  education  that  the  city  of  his  resi 
dence,  the  Athens  of  America,  could  afford.  He  was  grad 
uated  with  distinguished  honors  at  Harvard  University. 
After  spending  some  time  in  Europe,  he  studied  law  in 
Boston.  In  due  time  he  was  admitted  to  practice  in  the 


APPENDIX.  349 

several  courts  of  the  city,  and  soon  took  his  place  in  the 
very  first  rank  among  the  young  men  of  the  Boston  Bar. 

"  Upon  the  breaking  out  of  the  Rebellion  he  felt  it  his 
duty  to  offer  his  services  in  the  cause  of  his  country.  He 
was  chosen  Major  of  the  Second  Regiment  Massachusetts 
Volunteers,  and  during  the  last  summer  was  promoted  to  a 
lieutenant-colonelcy.  Connected  with  General  Banks's  divis 
ion,  during  the  last  winter  he  spent  several  months  in  this 
place,  and  endeared  himself  to  all  who  made  his  acquaint 
ance. 

"  Gentle,  noble,  generous,  and  self-sacrificing,  he  was 
eminently  distinguished  for  his  social  excellences,  and 
respected  by  all. 

"  His  untimely  death  in  the  hour  of  victory  and  the  full 
pride  of  manhood  is  sad  indeed,  and  has  filled  with  sorrow 
a  large  circle  of  friends  in  this  city. 

"  D." 


APPENDIX    X. 

THE  following  lines  appeared  in  the  Boston  Daily 
Advertiser  on  the  morning  of  the  day  of  Captain 
Howard  Dwight's  burial. 

HOWARD   DWIGHT. 

DIED   MAT   4,    1863. 

Another  wail  of  saddest  music  heard, — 

Another  slow  procession  winding  through 

The  ways  once  so  familiar  to  his  feet,  — 

Another  flood  of  tears  to  overflow 

The  cup  e'en  now  filled  to  the  brim  with  grief, 

And  we  have  paid  our  last  respects  to  him, 

The  second  offering  of  a  stricken  house. 

Father !  God  give  thee  strength  to  bear  the  stroke  ; 

And  mother !   pray  thee  Heaven  may  stay  thy  faith  ; 

So  that  when  side  by  side  these  brothers  lie, 

Your  two  brave  children,  loved  and  praised  by  all, 

Ye  '11  say  with  us,  't  is  well  such  men  have  lived, 

To  die  examples  for  those  left  behind. 

F.  B. 

May  22,  1863. 


APPENDIX    XI. 


WITHIN  the  rock  which  overhangs  the  grave  of 
Wilder  and  Howard  D wight  is  inserted  a  sim 
ple  tablet  of  bronze,  bearing  a  double  inscription ; 
the  dividing  line  being  two  swords,  in  relievo,  sus 
pended  by  their  knots ;  their  hilts  wreathed  with 
laurel.  Leaves  of  the  laurel  and  of  the  oak  form  the 
edge  of  the  tablet.  The  inscription  is  as  follows :  — 

HERE   LIE    THE    BODIES    OF 
WILDER   DWIGHT,    LIEUTENANT-COLONEL    OF    THE    SECOND    REGIMENT 

OF    MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS,   AND 

HOWARD    DWIGHT,    CAPTAIN   AND   ASSISTANT    ADJUTANT-GENERAL 
IN    THE    SERVICE    OF    THE    UNITED    STATES. 


WILDER, 


SECOND   SON   OF   WILLIAM 

AND    ELIZABETH    A.    DWIGHT, 

WAS   BORN   IN    SPRINGFIELD, 

APRIL  23,    1833. 

HE  WAS  MORTALLY  WOUNDED 

IN  THE  BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM, 

AND  DIED  AFTER  TWO  DAYS, 

NEAR  THE   FIELD   OF  BATTLE, 

SEPTEMBER  19,  1862. 
IN  THE  THIRTIETH  YEAR 

OF  HIS  AGE. 

AS  HE  LAY  WOUNDED  AND  ALONE 

UNDER  THE  FIRE  OF  THE  ENEMY, 

HE  WROTE,  WITH  OTHER  WORDS 

OF  COMFORT,  TO  HIS  MOTHER 

THESE  WORDS: 
"ALL  is  WELL  WITH  THOSE 

WHO   HAVE   FAITH." 


HOWARD, 


FOURTH   SON  OF   WILLIAM 

AND    ELIZABETH    A.    DWIGHT, 

WAS   BORN   IN   SPRINGFIELD, 

OCTOBER  29,    1837. 
IN   THE    CAMPAIGN   AGAINST 

PORT   HUDSON   HE   WAS 

SURPRISED   AND    KILLED 

BY    GUERILLAS,    NEAR    THE 

BAYOU   BOZUF,   LOUISIANA, 

MAY   4,  1863. 
IN   THE    TWENTY-SIXTH  YEAR 

OF   HIS   AGE. 
BEFORE     DEATH     CAME, 

HE  HAD  CHEERFULLY 
DECLARED   HIMSELF   WILLING 

TO   DIE   FOR  THE   CAUSE 

TO    WHICH    HIS    BROTHER 

HAD    GIVEN   HIS   LIFE. 


"NO  MAN  CAN  SUFFER  TOO  MUCH,  AND  NO  MAN  CAN  FALL  TOO  SOON, 

IF  HE  SUFFER  OR  IF  HE  FALL 
IN  DEFENCE  OF  THE  LIBERTIES  AND  CONSTITUTION 

OF  HIS  COUNTRY." 

"THEY  REST  FROM  THEIR  LABORS, 

AND  THEIR  WORKS  DO  FOLLOW  THEM." 


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